


Stitcher

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Elemental Manipulation, Empath Lance (Voltron), Fuck Canon, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gore in chapter 10, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), I have no idea what this is or where it’s going, Korean Keith (Voltron), Looooots of witchcraft, Lots of paladin and lion headcanons, M/M, Mutual Pining, SHIT GETS WEIRD, Smart Lance, Witch Lance (Voltron), Witchcraft, because that’s the GOOD shit, brief atla reference, but not the way you’re thinking, rated for language, stitching is basically the levelled version of reiki, think Star Trek tos Empath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: After their lions crash on an alien planet and Keith gets savaged by a boar, Lance saves his life by revealing an old family secret.~Lance is a super powerful empath and knows a hell of a lot more about being a pilot and how the lions work than anyone else. There’s lots of fluff and minor angst. Everyone is fine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going but it got super out of hand and has been sitting in my google docs for months. Fuck it.
> 
> Edit: New chapters will be posted every Tuesday and if they're not someone shoot me a message. I've never kept to a regular update schedule before.
> 
> Super shoutout to stormie2817 for helping me beta these, EmpressAelin just in general for being awesome and super supportive of me ruining their life on the daily, and BirchWood for being fucking fabulous. Hearing from you always picks up my day. 
> 
> You guys have all been amazing and a delight to talk to. I look forward to hearing from you. 💋💋💋
> 
> Update: Gore warning for chapter 10 but so promise everything will be okay. It just gets a little graphic for a bit.

Keith is savaged by a boar in their first day on the planet. Lance barely reaches him in time. It takes more rounds than he can count to put the animal down, but it’s the silence from Keith that has Lance terrified.

His hands are shaking as he drops to his knees beside Keith whose eyes are wild, hands covering the bloody mess of his stomach.

“Show me,” Lance rasps but Keith doesn’t move. “Keith you have to show me,” he snaps, wresting the red paladin’s hands away. The sight nearly makes him sick. There’s blood and meat and exposed organ and Lance doesn’t know how he keeps from vomiting.

Something cold washes over him and he knows Keith is going to die. His breath catches in his throat and he looks at Keith, weighing options but already knowing what he’s going to do. He can’t lose Keith and there’s no other choice. Fear grips him anyway, tears in his eyes.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he whispers before his hands are covering the wound and Keith is screaming.

~

Lance forces himself to block the sound from his mind, concentrating, and blue light swaths his hands. He forces the energy deep into the wound, terrified of how deep it goes, and begins stitching it together. Keith doesn’t stop screaming.

By the time Lance manages to shallow up the gaping hole in Keith’s stomach he can barely see straight. He’s ashen and sweat beads across his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping into his eyes. His hands are beginning to shake. He's so cold.

Keith has finally gone quiet and Lance can feel the shock in his body wearing off. He pulls the pain deeper into himself, out of Keith, forcing the wound closed.

“Lance?”

“Shut up and let me work.” And is that really what his voice sounds like? Lance swallows reflexively, dry throat clicking and tries to concentrate but it’s hard. His grasp on the energy keeps slipping. He does his best to close the wound but it’s been a long time since he last stitched anything. The pain is debilitating.

“What are you…”

Lance grinds his teeth, forcing the wound shut with one final push and Keith groans, his body arching weakly. Lance blinks through the sweat and pain, pulling a shallow breath. His insides feel like jelly.

“Where else?” he rasps and Keith stares at him. He sets his jaw and does his best to focus. “Keith I can barely see straight and I need to know you’re going to be able to walk in the next ten minutes.” He struggles not to breathe, swaying dangerously beside Keith.

“Why?” He’s covered in rapidly drying blood and yeah, Lance is going to be sick.

He tilts to one side, reaching blindly to steady himself, his hand falling on Keith’s leg. His limbs feel clumsy and numb and his head is floating somewhere above them.

“Because I’m going to pass out,” he gasps. He can’t get enough air into his lungs. He can feel the energy reaching for what he thinks is a fracture in Keith’s ankle and turns to stitch it, pulling at the pain blindly. “And I need to know you can carry me.” His voice comes out a pained whine.

“Lance-”

“Let me work,” he rasps, barely summoning the energy to speak.

To his credit Keith shuts up and when Lance’s vision goes blurry and he tips sideways Keith catches him. His arms and legs are heavy and numb and he knows he’s expended too much energy, put too much into it but he can’t say he regrets it.

Still, it feels like he’s dying.

“Glad you’re...o-kay,” he slurs before his body goes fully limp and he passes out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super happy with this chapter but eh, fuck it.

Everything hurts. Lance tries to curse every god he knows as he comes to but all he manages is a dull groan. His head is throbbing.

“Lance?”

He groans again and tries to sit up. The marrow in his bones hurts. “Fuck.”

There’s a hand on his arm helping support him and he cradles his head tenderly in his hands.

“My head feels like an overripe melon that’s been split open,” he mumbles, expecting to feel blood and brain matter in his hands. “Worst hangover ever.” He stretches his neck slowly, trying to work out the knots. It doesn’t help.

“How long was I out?” He opens his eyes carefully. They’re dry and grainy.

Keith looks ashen but alive. The pain from the wound is finally gone from Lance’s abdomen but there’s a soul deep exhaustion in him that will take days to shake. He knows from experience.

Keith’s suit is shredded but he must have washed the blood off at some point. Lance can see the puckered pink scar on his abdomen from the gore. It looks raw and painful and Lance can see a smattering of bruises under the layers of dirt he’s still covered in. Not his best work but at least Keith is alive.

“Twenty hours.”

Keith says it like Lance should be worried. And maybe he should but it's about what he was expecting.

“Eh, been through worse.” He cracks his spine and turns to better face Keith, trying to ignore the way the dried blood on his hands stretches and cracks. He’s still dizzy.

“How are you?” He pats at Keith’s arms, the energy in his hands seeking out the deep bruising and remnant damage but Keith swats him away, the light swelling around Lance’s hands fading.

“Enough!” Keith snaps. “What the hell Lance?” His eyes are dark and angry and terrified.

Lance blinks at him dumbly before he sags, unable to hold his own weight any longer and leans into Keith, too tired and weak to worry about how that might look. He’ll be embarrassed later.

He tries to forcibly will away the migraine behind his eyes. Lance has to explain, he knows he does, but he’s never told anyone before and it’s hard. He doesn’t even know where to begin. He tells Keith as much.

“How about with what it was?” He grits out. He’s tense under Lance where he’s resting his forehead against Keith’s shoulder but he doesn’t pull away.

Lance figures it’s as good a place as any. “I call it stitching,” he mumbles slowly. Stars he’s so tired. “Not sure what else to call it. It runs in my family.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know if it’s a quintessence thing like Allura was talking about or something else...but we can heal people.

“I think it’s empathy based.” He manages to reach up and rub his eyes, one of Keith's arms catching him around the waist as he starts to topple.

“And you didn’t tell any of us because?” His grip tightens around Lance slightly.

Lance throws him a dirty look from where his face is still pressed into Keith's neck.

“Would you have believed me?” he mumbles. “And what would I have said anyway? ‘I have magic glowing hands that can keep you alive after you’ve been gored nearly to death?’” His cheeks flush but he isn’t sure why. “You’re welcome by the way,” he grumbles, one had looped loosely over his still throbbing abdomen. “Hurt like a bitch.”

He puts his hand on Keith’s arm, the energy jumping to a deep tissue bruise in his thigh before he can help it. He frowns and sits up with Keith's help, trying to reach for the wound but Keith brushes him off.

“I'm fine.”

Lance scowls and lets the hand fall right on top of the bruise. He adds pressure until Keith grimaces and then pulls away, flooding the wound with energy, soothing the pain. His own leg begins to throb in response.

“Liar,” he grinds out and his hand gentles on Keith’s leg in apology. “Sorry.” He frowns as other tendrils of energy go poking through Keith, showing him the fracture in his arm and the sprained ankle. “Jesus you’re a mess,” he grouses, struggling to sit up.

“You’re hurting yourself.”

Lance shrugs, his muscles weak. He can barely keep his eyes open. “I’m already useless, the least you can do is let me help.” He moves his hands to Keith's ankle. “Otherwise we're both going to die out here.” He glances up at Keith embarrassed, but at this point if they both want to make it out alive Lance has to tell him the truth.

“I need you okay. I’m too weak to defend myself right now so I need you to do it while I recover and purge the pain.” It pains him to say it, to admit to weakness, but it’s true.

“So let me help. This is literally all I can do; make sure you're strong enough to keep us both safe.” His eyes search Keith's. “Trust me,” he says, his voice pitching low. “I know my limits and I've been through worse.”

Keith doesn't look appeased but he doesn’t try to yank his ankle out of Lance’s hands. “I don't want you hurting yourself for me.”

Lance doesn't know what to do with the pain he feels in his heart at that. He'd do all this and more if it meant keeping Keith safe, but he doesn't tell him that. He doesn’t know how.

He tries to smile. His face is ashen. “Every tank needs a healer.”

Keith frowns. “What?”

Lance bites back a laugh. “Nevermind. Suffice to say my motives are entirely selfish.” He tries to inject as much life and energy into his words as possible as his ankle begins to throb. He presses more energy into it, taking care of the swelling and damaged ligaments.

“Like I said, I am relying entirely on you to get us off this lump of rock alive.” His voice lilts happily but he's terrified. He doesn't like having to rely on other people to keep him safe, doesn't like to feel weak or vulnerable. And now he doesn't have a choice.

He moves on to Keith’s fracture, stitching it up cleanly. It takes him a moment to clear his vision. Almost done.

“Lance, I’m fine.”

Lance ignores him. “This might make you dizzy,” he whispers. Before Keith can ask Lance puts both hands on either side of his face and _pulls_. His energy expands, the light covering Keith from head to toe, drawing every last pain out of him in a final gasp.

The bruises and small scrapes and headache, all the last remaining vestiges of pain transfer to Lance, all compiling on top of one another, compounding with the bone deep ache Lance already feels and it’s too much. He thinks he’s going to be sick. Tears slide down his cheeks as he cries.

His hands tremble against Keith’s face and he sags, arms falling heavily. He leans into Keith for support, a distressed whine in the back of his throat. He can’t stop shaking.

“Liar,” he cries through the pain. God everything _hurts._ Keith’s arms come up to slowly circle Lance, cradling him. Either to comfort or to keep him from falling over, Lance isn’t sure. It’s awkward but comforting and Lance breathes jagged puffs of air against Keith’s throat, still crying. His hands are numb and shaking.

“Why did you do that?” His grip on Lance tightens. “Damn it Lance. You didn’t have to do that, I could have dealt with it.” He shifts and Lance slides sideways, his body limp and deadweight. He can’t hold his head up. Keith catches him before he can hit the ground, one hand cradling the back of Lance’s skull.

“Let me sleep,” he rasps. The light is too bright, stabbing into his eyes. It hurts. “Need sleep.”

He doesn’t feel Keith lay him down, tucking the blanket around him or the heat of the fire against his skin. He sleeps for another eleven hours


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It’s Tuesday! Did I yell you guys I’d be updating this every Tuesday? I don’t remember. 
> 
> Also, Chapter four is super short but doesn’t really fit with three or five. I don’t want to make you wait and entire week to read something that’s only a few hundred words so that will likely be posted halfway through the week. 
> 
> Chapter three is also where things start to get a little left field but stuck with me. There’s a reason and some developmental explanation later down the line. If you have any questions about my strange little au feel free to shoot em at me. I’ll answer what I can and think deeply on what I can’t. Otherwise, enjoy!

“Keith?” Lance groans, a scuffling sound nearby drawing his attention and then Keith is there, helping him sit up.

“Hey, you’re awake.” A knee presses into Lance’s back helping support his weight as an arm circles his shoulders.

Lance frowns again, pressing a hand to his face. “I feel like shit,” he grumbles. And he does, but it’s better. His head hurts and he still feels cold and tired but the sharp clarity of the pain is gone.

“Here, you need water.”

Lance feels something pressing against his lips and swallows on reflex as water spills into his mouth. He drinks greedily, throat parched, finally pulling back with a gasp.

He opens his eyes, blinking up at the stars, pulling long deep breaths.

“You okay?” He finally looks at Keith, seeing the deep bruise on his cheek.

“God damn it Keith.” He reaches for the bruise and Keith catches his wrist before he can touch him.

“Stop, stop, I’m fine.” He pulls Lance’s hand away. “Stop worrying about me. You need food and water. You’ve been asleep for a day and a half.”

Lance scowls, ignoring him, still trying to reach for the bruise. He’s afraid Keith’s fractured his cheekbone. “What the hell happened?”

“I brought you dinner,” Keith says, immediately deflecting, voice going petulant. “So stop whining, you need to eat.” He pulls away but only after he’s sure Lance can sit up on his own. That’s when Lance smells cooking meat and his stomach rumbles. He’s starving.

Keith looks smug, cutting off a strip of meat and passing it to Lance.

“Did you go back and spite kill another one of those pigs for gutting you?” Lance asks, tearing into the cooked pork, ignoring the swoop of fear he feels at the words. He’d do anything to forget the way Keith had screamed.

Keith flushes, cutting another strip as Lance tears into the first one. “Maybe.”

“Good.”

Keith lifts his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, passing over the second slab. Lance devours it too and Keith sits back, slicing into what looks like a purple dragon fruit, handing over one slice at a time. Lance sniffs it suspiciously, wiping a hand over his mouth.

“Sure it’s not poison?”

“I’m sure.”

Lance squints at him, turning the piece of fruit in his fingers slowly. “How do you know?” He sniffs it suspiciously.

Keith looks down at the fruit in his hands, continuing to slice it to avoid looking at him.

“Tested it on myself first.”

Lance almost throws the slice back at him. He glares at Keith, sinking his teeth into the meat of the fruit, scraping it off the thick skin.

“You’re an idiot,” he scolds. “It could have killed you! Then who would have dragged my sorry ass back home?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t and I’m fine.” Lance is getting really tired of hearing that. “We have to have a food source Lance, we don’t know how long we’re going to be here.”

Lance does not look appeased but for the moment he eats in silence because yeah, maybe Keith is right but that doesn’t mean Lance has to admit it.

“How are the lions?” He tosses the rind into the fire. It tastes like peaches and the fruit is a sweet, welcome relief to his still dry throat.

Keith sighs, rubbing the back of a wrist over his eyebrow. His fingers glisten with fruit juice. Lance maybe flushes at the idea of licking them clean and then forces his brain back out of the gutter as he realizes Keith is talking.

“Red’s fried. Her core is drained and I can’t feel anything from Blue; but she isn’t mine so I don’t know.” He sighs, continuing to cut apart the fruit for something to do. Lance eats what he’s given on reflex. “She looks okay, there’s no heavy damage but she seems as drained as Red.”

Lance closes his eyes, tentatively reaching. He’s afraid of over-extending himself so soon after recovering but he’s worried.

“What are you doing?” Keith’s voice is tense as Lance shuts his eyes, worried he’s trying to do something stupid. Keith is not above knocking Lance out to make him stop if it proves to be detrimental to his recovery.

“Looking,” Lance says distractedly. There’s a brief flicker against his mind, barely there but he sighs with relief, sending a small thread of energy at Blue and she perks up, if only a little. He smiles, tired but relieved and sends her a thought of reassurance before pulling away.

“She’s okay.” He opens his eyes. “Drained to hell but nothing a little TLC can’t fix.” He nibbles at the piece of fruit in his hands.

“We have to charge their cores,” Keith says slowly, almost like Lance is too much of an idiot to understand that. “Otherwise we’re never going to get off the surface.”

Lance glares at him, not missing the tone. People have talked to him like that all his life, he’s not going to let Keith do it too.

“Why is that a problem?” He grits his teeth.

“Lance we’d need a massive power source to do that.” Keith’s shoulders go slack like somehow they’re already defeated and Lance can’t understand why.

Lance shakes his head. “No, we don’t. We already have one.”

Keith blinks at him dumbly and Lance returns the expression, shaking his head at Keith like he’s missing the obvious. And then he frowns, his lips pouting in disbelief.

“Dude, how do you not know this?”

“Know what?” Keith grinds out and Lance can see his fingers flex around the blade. So he’s not the only one who doesn’t like being talked to like he’s an idiot.

Lance rubs at his forehead. His head is starting to throb again.

“Stars, I thought everyone knew this already,” he mutters, lowering his hand to meet Keith’s eyes. He inadvertently slips into what Marco had dubbed his ‘instructor voice’ when Lance explained things to his niece and nephew. It’s the same voice he used when teaching them to swim and surf or the constellations over Cuba.

“The paladins are an extension of the lions,” he explains slowly. “We need them and they need us. We are two halves of a whole.”

“Yeah, and?”

Lance scowls. “Let me finish,” he snaps, taking a deep breath, reaching for his patience. He had thought all of this was common knowledge but apparently not. He’s trying to find out how much Keith already knows so he knows just how much he has to explain.

“Our quintessence has to be an almost exact match to the quintessence of our lions, it’s why finding a paladin is so hard.” He starts gesturing with his hands as he talks, a habit he hasn‘t quite been able to break. “But it means our energy is interchangeable. Like giving blood. We have to be a match to trade energy.”

Keith is still looking at him like he doesn’t understand and Lance does his best to dumb it down.

“We’re literally walking batteries. We can power the lions ourselves.”

Keith’s eyes widen and for a moment he looks afraid. “The amount of power that would take…”

Lance is already shaking his head before Keith can finish the thought. “We don’t need to charge the entire core. We just need enough to get them out of the atmosphere and the gravitational pull of the planet.”

Instead of smiling because hey, they have a way out, Keith is scowling. “Lance this could still kill you. If you’re right and whatever stitching thing you can do is quintessence based, trying to charge the blue lion could drain _you_ instead of powering her.”

Lance waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine. Blue won’t pull more than she needs. She never does. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Keith blinks in surprise. “You have?”

Lance is dumbfounded again. “Well yeah. What do you think piloting is?” He nibbles on the fruit and makes a face. “It’s why we come out of every fight exhausted. The lions are pulling on us when they need to and vice versa. The lion and paladin relationship isn’t one sided, it can’t be. It has to go both ways to work.”

Keith looks dumbstruck and that’s not a look Lance has ever seen on his face either. It’s been a night full of firsts. “How do you know all this?”

Lance blushes and looks at the fire, fiddling with the rind of the dragon fruit/peach hybrid nervously. For the first time he looks self conscious and uncomfortable. “You won’t believe me,” he mumbles.

Keith gives him a flat look. “Lance we literally pilot giant sentient robot lions in space against purple aliens who are trying to take over the universe and have been fighting in a war that’s ten thousand years old,” he says flatly. “My suspension of disbelief is a little more skewed than normal.” Lance chews on his lip, glancing up at Keith from under his eyebrows. “Try me,” Keith coaxes.

Lance doesn’t want to tell him the truth, he isn’t ready for that, but maybe something truth adjacent will work. He sighs, shoulders going slack and tosses the rind he’s been fiddling with into the fire. His fingers are sticky.

“My brother’s a witch,” he says carefully. “His relationships with his pets and familiars functions the same way as the relationships the paladins have with their lions. They protect him and do what he asks but in exchange they essentially feed on his energy to do so.

“It’s a balanced exchange.” He can feel Keith staring at him and he picks up a rock, rolling it between his fingers for something to do. “We function as familiars to the lions and vice versa. What they need we provide.”

The longer the silence stretches the thinner Lance’s lips become.

“Huh.”

Lance shoots Keith a dirty look. “Told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lance can feel him staring. “Your brother’s really a witch?”

“Is that so hard to believe? Aliens are real, why not magick and witchcraft and spirits?” He doesn’t meet Keith’s gaze.

Lance huffs, letting the rock fall from his fingers and changes the subject. “You’re going to have to be the one to charge Red. I don’t know if my quintessence will blend with hers or if she’ll take the charge even if I try. We’re not a match and I’m not sure there’s such a thing as a universal donor when it comes to quintessence.”

“You are not charging my lion,” Keith snaps with more bite than Lance expected. “I’m still not sure this whole thing will work or that charging Blue won’t drain you so no, you’re not charging both lions. Not happening.”

“Do you know how to do it?” Lance throws back.

“I’ll figure it out.” He glares at Lance and Lance knows it’s because he’s worried but he can’t figure out why. He didn’t expect Keith to care.

The anger slips a little from Keith’s face. “Lance you can’t even stand.”

“Give me two hours,” he grumbles. “I’ll be fine. I know how to recharge. You don’t.” He sighs tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. He doesn’t want to fight.

“Look, my point is I don’t know why we’re arguing. We’re going to be fine. Thank you for the food. I need to meditate.” It’s an obvious dismissal and he avoids meeting Keith’s gaze, embarrassed but glad he didn’t tell Keith the whole truth.

Lance wipes his hands on his pants and closes his eyes not waiting for an answer. He opens his third eye and sends a deep tether into the earth, poking curiously, seeing what he can find.

Earth has never really been his element but it’s there so he pulls on it idly, restocking his well of energy now that he can sit up straight without wanting to die.

His breathing goes slow and even, little fingers of energy branching out like roots from the base of his tether, poking. And then he finds an underground wellspring and smiles. He was right. In a matter of hours he’ll be back to almost full strength.

He sinks his tether deep into the water and _pulls_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sick and I feel like shit. Have the super short chapter four. Back to your regularly scheduled updates this coming Tuesday. 
> 
> As always I do not speak Spanish and have no grasp of grammar what so ever in any language.

In a matter of hours Lance has the strength to stand, the deep ache finally fading from his bones and he feels almost normal again. He finds out they’ve been on this planet for three days when he comes back to himself and even lets Keith pull him to his feet. He cracks his neck with a sigh. 

“Take me to my girl,” he says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them excitedly. Keith obliges. 

The camp Keith has set up for them isn’t too far from where they’d crashed and Lance is grateful. His well of energy is full but he’s still exhausted and the idea of an extended hike isn’t one he’s fond of. 

Lance’s heart sinks at the sight of Blue when they finally clear the trees. 

She’s sprawled across the ground, her limbs scattered and eyes dark. She’s a sad sight, paint scraped bare in places and surface dented. The earth is churned up all around her, packed into the lips and edges of her body and Lance deflates.

“Oh baby,” he says softly as they approach. “I’m so sorry  _ niña, lo siento _ .” He presses a hand to her metal surface, dipping his forehead and whispering to her. He sends a thread of energy at her, feeling her stir weakly in response, relieved she’s still there. 

“It’s okay  _ cariño _ , I’ll have you up and running again in no time.” He runs his hand down the metal. “Then a nice buff and polish when we get back home. A good bubble bath and you’ll be right as rain. How’s that sound?” He feels her purr faintly in the back of his head and smiles. 

He turns and looks at Keith who’s standing a few feet away, eyes scanning the area, pretending not to watch.

“Well, you coming with?” Keith’s eyes flick up to Blue. “You’re the one who wanted to keep an eye on me to make sure I don’t drain myself,” Lance says wryly. Keith uncrosses his arms with a sigh. 

“Fine.”

“So chipper,” Lance mocks, turning to climb his way in through the emergency hatch, Keith following after him. 

~

Lance settles on the floor across from Blue’s power core, shooting a look at Keith. 

“I don’t know how long this is going to take, just fair warning. Afterwards we can head over to Red and see about giving her a charge too.”

Keith nods but doesn’t say anything and Lance turns back to Blue and closes his eyes. He reaches for their bond, following her tether to him and slips easily into the astral plane. 

Blue rises to meet him and he smiles.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS MIDNIGHT BITCHES!!! You know what that means? NEW CHAPTER!!! This is where shit gets reeeeaaally left field and it just gets weirder from here. I have a lot of headcanons about this shit okay.

Keith watches as energy begins to pour from Lance. It’s so strong he can feel it against his skin and he shifts uncomfortably, trying to resist the urge to back away.

Lance’s eyes open and Keith realizes they’re glowing. They’d done the same thing while he was meditating, a brilliant pale blue, blindingly white at the core. It looks like he’s swallowed a star. It’s bright enough he’s casting shadows across the small room.

“Lance?”

His lips move but Lance is silent. Blue’s powercore begins to hum and Keith’s eyebrows lift into his hairline as he watches. He sinks slowly to the floor near Lance, tentatively reaching out with his mind to brush against Blue’s consciousness. She briefly bumps against him in greeting before turning her attention back to Lance. Keith touches Lance’s knee but he doesn’t react, blue-white eyes staring blindly through the powercore.

Keith sits beside him as an hour passes and Lance starts to sweat. He slowly begins to pale, breathing a little labored but Keith hesitates to wake him, not even sure he can.

A few minutes pass in tense silence and as Keith is readying himself to shake Lance awake his eyes flutter closed. His lids flicker as the light fades, posture beginning to sag and then he opens his eyes. Blue’s powercore is thrumming happily and Lance gives a tired smile. He reaches out and pats it fondly.

“Few more of those and you’ll be good to go huh?” Keith can feel her thrum in response. Lance sighs deeply and stretches, rubbing at his lower back with a wince.

“How did you do that?” Keith’s voice is almost reverent.

Lance looks exhausted again but he smiles. “If I’d known you didn’t know how I’d have shown you ages ago.” He gives the core one last fond pat before standing. Keith grabs his arm on reflex, afraid he’s going to fall.

“Come on, let's go see Red and get you two to connect.”

~

They sit across from Red’s powercore, Lance reaching out for her.

“Hey Big Red,” he says softly. “You there?”

Keith can feel Red stir sluggishly.

“She’s here,” he says, relieved to feel her though she’s distant and faint.

“Good, then this’ll work.” Lance shuffles around until he’s facing Keith, hands resting palm up on his knees. “Find Red’s tether and follow me. I don’t know if this is going to work but you should find yourself in the astral plane. All you have to do from there is share your quintessence with her and she’ll recharge. I’ll pull you back out if she starts pulling too hard.”

Keith nods slowly placing his hands in Lance’s and closes his eyes.

Lance reaches for Red, gentle and coaxing, afraid she won’t let him connect but after a moment she lets their quintessence blend and Lance can feel Keith doing the same. He’s pleased at Red’s trust in him. After Allura’s initial description of the lions and Red’s personality he was afraid she’d shut him out.

Lance reaches for Keith while holding onto Red, surprised by his hesitation. He’s holding onto Red but his quintessence spins idly as if watching Lance. Lance waits, mind and energy open, trying to display trust and calm and finally Keith’s quintessence brushes tentatively against Lance’s making him smile. Lance lets Keith come to him, slowly threading their energy together, letting Keith adapt to the feeling and doesn’t pull until Keith is ready.

With the three of them tangled together Lance begins to guide them into the astral. He opens his eyes to see the black expanse around them, scattered with stars and smiles.

Keith’s hand is still in his.

Red bounds up to them through the dark and Keith looks startled, pulling back on reflex.

Lance squeezes Keith’s hand to keep him from running away as Red butts her massive head into his chest, purring loudly. It nearly knocks him off his feet.

“Hey...Red?” Keith glances at Lance who nods encouragingly, releasing his hand. Keith runs his fingers through her short mane in surprise and she purrs loudly. Keith grins.

Lance’s expression turns to one of surprise. “You’ve never seen her before.”

Keith shakes his head, still staring at her in wonder. “You do this on a regular basis?” He looks around the astral plane, taking it in, still running his fingers through Red’s mane.

Lance nods. “Yeah. Any time I’m bonding with Blue I’m here. How do you bond with Red?”

Keith shrugs. “Normally I’m just hanging out in the cockpit and talking to her.”

Lance stares at the red lion, hands sliding into his pockets. Keith’s hands run over Red’s face, like he’s tracing the shape of her and he’s smiling softly.

Lance tries not to stare, not that he succeeds. He isn’t used to that kind of an expression on Keith’s face but it suits him. His violet eyes flick up to Lance’s and he looks hesitant.

“So, how do I do this?”

Lance shrugs. “You already are. Just spend time with her.

“By being here you’re sending energy down the tether to her, making her stronger. Most of the time Blue and I talk or play tag or nap. It’s up to you what you do from here.”

A smile glitters in Keith’s eyes. “You play tag with a ten thousand year old war machine?” Lance can hear the laughter in his voice and it warms something in his chest.

He smiles back. “Yes Keith, I do. It’s her favorite pastime.” Red bunts her head against Keith’s for his attention and he laughs into her fur, pressing his forehead to hers. It’s the most adorable thing Lance has ever seen and he feels his breath catch in his lungs at the sight.

“Well, what do you say girl? You up for a game of tag?”

Red swats at him playfully and Keith darts a few paces to the side, just out of range. Red purrs and bounds after him, sounding like a freight train. She’s even louder than Blue.

Lance watches on in amusement, sinking tiredly to the ground. He’s exhausted. In spite of Keith’s warnings and his assurances that Blue wouldn’t pull too much, Lance had probably dumped more energy into her than he should have. But it’s imperative they get off the ground as quickly as possible. With no idea where they are or the whereabouts of the Galra, the longer they’re grounded the higher the risk of them being discovered. If it weren’t so dangerous Lance would activate their distress beacons but they have no idea who might pick it up. Better to wait until they’re flight ready and can defend themselves. Without power they’re exposed and vulnerable.

He lays back and closes his eyes, listening to the sound of Keith’s laughter and the heavy footfalls of the red lion. He lets his mind wander and thinks of home. He can almost hear the crashing of the waves, taste the salt of the sea, hear the laughter of his nieflings, his mother calling them all inside as the sun sets.

“Lance?”

He blinks his eyes open, trying to focus through the haze but it’s hard. Keith is lying on the ground a few feet away, pinned beneath Red who’s grooming him, much to Keith’s embarrassed frustration.

Lance bursts into laughter at Keith’s hair sticking up in various directions. Red purrs louder, very pleased with herself. He feels the faintest brush of her mind and _mine_ as she adjusts her massive paws around Keith _._ Lance smiles at her, sending a flicker of love and pride and gratitude at her. If Lance didn’t know better he’d say she’d smiled.

“She really loves you, you know?”

Keith glances up at Red and manages to free an arm and to scratch her under the chin.

“Yeah.” He turns his head to look back at Lance.

“Hey Lance?”

“Hmm?” His eyes have fallen shut again.

“What did you mean?” he says slowly, carefully, like he isn’t sure he should be asking.

“Before, when you were stitching me, you said you’d been through worse.” He watches Lance intently, a crease between his eyebrows. “What did you mean?”

Lance winces, scrubbing both hands over his face with a groan. He drags his fingers back through his hair leaving it as tousled as Keith’s. His arms flop to the ground over his head.

“Back when I was a kid,” he begins and his voice is distant. “I think I was twelve at the time? Some guy hit a motorcyclist right outside our house.” Keith didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t that.

“We didn’t see it happen,” Lance goes on, “but we did hear it. We heard the tires squealing as whoever it was gunned the engine and took off. By the time we got outside he was gone.” Lance’s expression darkens and his fingers twitch restlessly.

“The biker was lying broken across the pavement, blood everywhere and shredded leather.” He turns his head to look at Keith. “He was lucky he was wearing what he was. I mean the crash should have killed him three times over but without the leather he would have been ground meat.” Lance shivers, trying to shake off the memory.

“Anyway, I remember somebody screaming and the next thing I know they’re hauling this poor man’s broken body inside in a sheet painted red and Marco’s swiping everything off the old wooden table so they can lay him down.” His fingers twitch over his head. “I remember that because it broke my mom’s favorite bowl,” he says idly. “Shattered it right across the floor.” He pulls a hand down and runs the nail of his thumb over his lower lip.

“Funny thing to remember,” he says softly, staring up at the stars but not seeing them, fingers lacing on top of his chest. “I can still hear the sound it made.” And the blood as it pattered onto the floor. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound.

“Adrenaline,” Keith murmurs and Lance nods.

“Strange the things it makes you remember.” He takes a deep breath and seems to focus again. “They tried to chase me out of the room when they brought him in but Veronica said no.

“Marco and my dad argued I was too young to be there, to see any of it, to help, but Ronnie said it was too late; I was already there. I’d already seen it and making me leave now wouldn’t solve anything.” He turns his head and looks at Keith. “I’m one of the strongest stitchers in my family,” he explains. “Only my _abuelita_ has more power than I do.” His fingers twist together and Keith is surprised it’s not a boast. He’s stating it as a simple fact, something for context, nothing more.

“Anyway, Ronnie was never very good at stitching so she said if we wanted to save this guy’s life they needed me. Mom agreed and finally my dad and Marco both relented.” He chews on his lip.

“If they hadn’t let me help I think I probably would have had nightmares,” he admits. “Never would have stopped seeing his face.

“I mean I still did, have nightmares I mean.” He gestures with a hand. “But it was nice to be able to see him after, to know he was still alive and that I’d helped make that happen.” He makes a noise which might have been a laugh.

“Funny, I can’t even remember his name now,” he whispers. “Seems like the kind of thing you’d remember huh?” He stares up at the stars, looking for familiar constellations overhead, knowing he won’t find any but unable to help looking anyway. It’s a habit he can’t quite shake.

“We worked together to stabilize him and then in shifts to bring him back around. It hurt so bad,” he breathes, voice thin and weak. “God I still remember that, how much it hurt.” One hand comes to rest over his heart as if to fight off the phantom pain of the memory.

“I’d never done anything on that kind of a scale before,” he explains. “It was all small things before that; bruises, scratches, still learning to control and shape the energy.” He laces his fingers over his chest. “Saved a dog once. That got weird. Pain in strange places but it was gone in a few hours.

“Marco actually passed out at one point while we were working and dad didn’t fare much better.” He turns his head to look at Keith. “Trust me, you never want to know what it feels like to fracture your skull, break all of your ribs, and puncture your lung all at the same time.” Lance shivers, curling his arms more tightly against his chest, fingers working over the goosebumps rising on his arms. “That’s not a sensation you ever forget.”

Keith’s lips part and he stares at Lance, breathless. “Are you telling me you absorb the pain to heal the injury?”

Lance nods and Keith pales. He thinks he might be sick. Is it possible to be sick in the astral plane? He doesn’t know but he might be about to find out.

“I mean, I knew that but I guess I just figured after a point you stopped feeling it or something?” His heart is racing.

Keith remembers what being gored had felt like and can’t believe Lance had done that, pulled all of that pain into himself to heal the wound; for him let alone anyone else.

Red whines, distressed by how upset her paladin is, a deep thrum in her chest trying to comfort.

“For all intents and purposes we experience the injury,” Lance says. “It’s very surreal to touch a broken arm, feeling the bone punctured through tissue, touching it.” His hand slides over his forearm. “And drawing it away only to realize there’s no blood on your hand.” He lifts his hand into the air, staring at it, remembering.

Keith’s blood goes cold. “Why would you do that? Why would anyone?”

Lance looks him dead in the eye, dropping his arm, exhaustion in the lines of his face. “Because it’s worth it,” he says simply. Keith doesn’t know if he imagines the implied _you’re worth it_ lingering in the air between them but the weight to Lance’s gaze suggests he isn’t.

“Besides,” Lance goes on, releasing Keith’s gaze. “Pain is fleeting and brief and all in the mind. You tough it out long enough it goes away.” He shrugs, voice going soft. “Seems a small price to pay for a life.”

Keith’s heart falls into his boots. “That doesn’t make it-” He chews on the inside of his cheek, not sure what he’s trying to say. He takes several slow, deep breaths, trying to gather his thoughts. “That doesn’t mean you should have to go through it.”

Lance shrugs. “Like I said. It was worth it.

“Besides, most of the time it doesn’t hurt enough to leave much of an impression.” He grins but Keith can only imagine the kind of mental strain something like that puts on someone, thinks maybe he can see it in the tension around Lance’s eyes.

Keith is ashen, still sick to his stomach remembering the pained whimpers Lance had made in his sleep, the way he’d cried during and after both the goring and the last pull he’d done on Keith and guilt sours his stomach.

“I’m sorry.”

Lance blinks at him curiously, still trying to focus. “For what?” A deep furrow forms between his brows like he really can’t fathom what Keith is apologizing for.

“For not being more careful,” he whispers. “That you were hurt for my dumb mistake. If I hadn’t-”

Lance turns onto his side to face him, expression serious. “Keith you were _dying_ ,” he says softly. “I had the ability to change that.” He searches Keith’s eyes, more alert now than a moment ago.

“I wasn’t going to just sit there and let it happen.” His gaze holds Keith’s with a weight that’s almost physical, the briefest of smiles flicking through his eyes. “And I’m only going to say it one more time,” he goes on, “so stop.”

His voice is quiet and kind but a firm reprimand. “It was _worth it_.” He stares at Keith until Keith ducks his head, guilt gnawing away at him.

Red drops her massive head on his chest, driving the air out of him with an oof and whines again. Keith takes the opportunity to hide in her mane, petting her. When he glances back over again Lance has closed his eyes, his breaths slow and deep.

“You okay?” he asks and Lance blinks his eyes open. They’ve been here too long.

Keith is still trapped beneath Red but looks none too inclined to be anywhere else. In spite of everything it makes Lance smile.

He nods and forces himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah.” He yawns deeply. “You?”

“Tired,” Keith admits and Lance nods.

“Yeah, me too. Time to go. You’re starting to drain and so am I. We stay here any longer you might not be able to get back.” Lance lumbers slowly to his feet. It’s more difficult than it should be and he swears the space begins to spin.

“That’s a thing?”

Lance nods after everything settles back down. “Yeah, at least when you’re trying to recharge. The longer you stay the more you risk giving away.” He gestures to Red with his chin.

“If she needs more energy than you’re capable of giving it could kill you.” His words are beginning to slur. Red whines and Keith gives her a reassuring pat.

He sits up and Red backs away, letting him. “Really?”

Lance grasps his wrist, hauling him to his feet. “Yeah. Come on, time to head back. We can check her power levels. It shouldn’t take too many more sessions to get them both charged.”

Red sits back and watches them, Keith giving her an idle pat on the head, not wanting to say goodbye.

Lance jerks his head and begins to walk, Keith dropping a quick kiss to Red’s forehead that Lance probably isn’t supposed to see before falling into step beside him. They both wake up back in Red’s inner workings, the powercore thrumming happily across from them. Keith’s hands are still in Lance’s. There’s a heavy pause as Keith slowly opens his eyes, blinking like he’s coming to after a long nap and Lance can’t help wondering if that’s what Keith looks like every morning when he wakes up.

Keith ducks his head and retracts his hands, a faint blush on his cheeks and Lance looks away, poking for Red. Her mind bumps against his in greeting.

“There you are,” he says fondly, reaching out to give her powercore a pat. His head lolls sideways in Keith’s direction, heavy on his neck.

“Told you it would work.” He takes a moment to feel smug before a yawn overtakes him, his jaw popping. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I need a nap.” His shoulders drop heavily. “I’d suggest we do so here considering anything could sneak up on us back at camp and honestly, I’m too damn tired to stand.”

Keith nods, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He looks pale and there’s a sheen of sweat on his skin.

“You okay?” Lance touches his arm and Keith nods.

“Yeah, just have a bit of a headache.” He shoots Lance a look before he can say or do anything. “Don’t.”

Lance withdraws his hand with a smile. “Wasn’t going to; too tired. Gonna have to suffer on your own.”

Keith nods. “Good.” He struggles to his feet, swaying lightly and Lance mentally curses. He’d let them stay too long. Keith pulls out a spare set of bedding from one of the storage compartments, dumping a set on Lance unceremoniously. Lance grunts either in protest or gratitude, spreading out the blanket and collapsing on top of it, dragging half of it up and over himself. Keith lays his out beside him, equally as exhausted, eyes closing as soon as he’s laid down, arms flopping listlessly to the ground. Lance blinks slowly, his eyes grainy and stretches his arm towards Keith.

He taps his fingers against Keith’s outstretched hand where it’s fallen in the space between them, wishing Keith would let him hold his hand again without the excuse.

“You okay?” he mumbles, sleep already dragging his eyelids back down.

Keith nods sleepily. “Mmhmm.” His cheek is pressed into the pillow, dark hair slipping across his face. “Thanks.”

Lance hums, eyes slipping closed, his hand still resting against Keith’s. “You’re welcome.” Keith’s fingers twitch, brushing against Lance’s and he doesn’t know if it’s a response or if Keith is just falling asleep but either way it makes him smile.

~

He wakes a few hours later to Keith twitching next to him, little distressed noises catching in the back of his throat.

Lance scrubs a hand over his eyes and scoots closer, covering Keith’s hand still between them with his own.

“Just a dream,” he whispers, voice rasping with sleep. He gently smoothes out the furrow between Keith’s dark brows, trying to think past the fuzziness in his brain.

“‘s okay.” He carefully brushes Keith’s hair out of his face, trying not to wake him. “You’re okay Keith.”

He makes another little noise and Lance shifts closer, their knees bumping. Lance lets his thumb stroke over the delicate skin inside Keith’s wrist where he’s cradling the red paladin’s hand over his heart, imagining he can feel his pulse there.

“Just a nightmare,” Lance whispers, cupping a hand to Keith’s cheek. “You’re safe _cariño._ Shhh.” He presses his lips to Keith’s forehead and Keith gives one final twitch before relaxing with a sigh, lips parted in sleep. Lance may have imagined it but he swears Keith shifts closer in that moment, making him smile.

He gives Keith’s hair a final pat before slipping back to sleep himself, Keith’s hand still cradled loosely between his own, resting just over his heart.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a really shitty week so I hope this makes yours a little better.

Lance wakes to a distant hum and patter and it takes him a moment to place the sound.

“Rain,” he breathes. He snaps upright, throwing off the blanket and bolting for Red’s ramp, startling Keith awake.

Cool air gusts into his face as Red lowers her massive head, opening her mouth. Lance squeals in delight, bolting out of the lion and into the water soaked ground, socks and all.

He lets loose a peal of laughter, arms extended and runs through a number of puddles, slipping in the mud, arms windmilling to try and correct. The water soaks through his hair and across his scalp, sliding down his throat, tickling as it goes, soaking through his coat and jeans.

Every part of him rises in frequency until his quintessence is humming, the vibrations tickling along his skin. Lance laughs until he cries and laughs again, spinning through the rain. The whole planet is alive beneath and around him and he can _feel_ it.

“What are you doing?’

Lance spins around, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes bright. “It’s raining!” he shrieks.

Keith leans against the wall, sheltered from the heavy downpour and crosses his arms. He looks surly and put-out by the rain, as if its appearance has personally offended him.

“I can see that.” He wrinkles his nose. “Guess it’s a good thing we crashed in the lions and not back at camp or we’d be soaked.” He takes in Lance’s waterlogged appearance, a small almost sly smile pulling at the side of his mouth. Even his eyes are smiling. “Guess it’s too late for you.”

“Oh, you big sourpuss,” Lance giggles. “Come here.” He holds out his hand, breaching the veil of water separating them as it spills down from Red’s mouth, rain dripping from his fingers.

Water cascades over the metal of her upper jaw in a broken waterfall, Lance standing under it like it’s where he belongs.

Keith scowls, hunching further inside Red and away from the water ricocheting off of Lance. “Not a chance.”

Lance waggles his fingers, trying to swallow the rising need and desperation he feels. “It’s not going to last much longer and there’s something I want to show you.”

“I hate the rain,” Keith grumbles, hunkering deeper inside his jacket.

Lance’s expression softens and he lowers his arm a fraction but doesn’t withdraw it. “I know. And I can’t make you come here,” he says softly, voice dipping low. “But I’d like it if you did.” Keith scowls. Lance’s eyes have no right to be that blue.

As if he can sense Keith’s resolve wavering he takes a step closer until he’s standing right under the thickest of the water, fingers just inside the warm dry air of Red’s mouth. The water is bouncing stupidly against the back of his head, splitting to run down his face and neck, little trails of it branching off around his eyes and over his lips.

Wet is a good look on Lance.

“Please,” he says softly, eyes bright and soft and Keith’s heart squeezes in his chest. Lance extends his arm again, fingers outstretched and reaching. “Trust me?”

Keith is weak.

 He takes Lance’s hand, wet fingers curling around his own and lets himself be drawn out into the rain.

Keith grinds his teeth as cold water splatters off his head and shoulders, stealing the breath from his lung. It cascades down the neck of his shirt and jacket, sliding cold fingers down his spine and soaking him to the bone.

“I hate you,” he grinds out with a shiver, fingers curling reflexively around Lance’s and Lance has to bite back the reflex to kiss him in that moment, even looking like a drowned rat. His heart leapt the moment Keith put his hand in his and is still lodged somewhere behind his tongue.

Keith’s hand tightens around Lance’s as he shivers, water soaking through his boots. In a matter of seconds he’s soaked all the way through and looking utterly miserable. But he’s stepped out into the rain. And he’s done it for Lance.  

Lance pulls him further away from Red with a laugh until they’re standing in an ankle deep puddle. Keith’s scowl is rapidly darkening and he glares angrily down at the muddy water obscuring his boots.

“Seriously Lance?”

He grins and Keith can practically feel him vibrating through their still connected hands.

Lance pushes Keith’s waterlogged hair back off his face with a hand and the intimacy and familiarity of the gesture make Keith’s heart seize.

Heedless of what he’s just done to Keith’s heart, Lance takes both of Keith’s wrists in his hands, cold fingers sliding up under the sleeves of his jacket, raising goosebumps and making him shiver. He steps closer and Keith can feel the heat of him against his chest.

“Close your eyes,” Lance whispers. Keith tenses, trying to pull his hands away making Lance smile and it’s so damn disarming he stops. “Relax Keith, I’m not gonna bite you,” he teases. “Just close your eyes.”

Keith purses his lips in silent protest but finally does, fighting the urge to run when Lance steps further into his space until they’re almost chest to chest. Keith’s breath hitches as Lance leans into him.

“Hold on to me,” he instructs and Keith’s fingers on Lance’s wrists tighten. “And don’t forget to breathe.” His lips are against Keith’s ear, the heat of his breath making him shiver. “Reach for your quintessence,” Lance whispers.

Keith can feel Lance reaching for him, tangling their quintessence together until the two are indistinguishable, red blending with blue until Keith can’t tell which one he’s grasping, his or Lance’s; everything is purple.

He swears he can feel Lance’s lips at his ear again as he whispers, “ _Breathe._ ”

Without warning Lance is pulling Keith down at the same time as he yanks him up and suddenly Keith can feel the planet beneath him; not just under his feet but below that, the life of it thrumming and pulsing like a deep heartbeat, so thick and heavy he can almost see it, almost taste it like molasses on his tongue.

At the same time he’s in the storm, _is_ the storm. He’s the lightning and the rain, the scorching ozone as lightning sears it, the air rushing to fill the void, the crack of thunder, and then he’s falling with the rain, soaking into the ground and quenching the earth. He’s the unfurling plants, the beating hearts of everything alive for miles around them, the energy of the planet itself. He can feel that heavy pulse from the planet as surely as his own heartbeat in his throat.

His knees give out under the vast weight of it all and Lance carries him to the ground, both of them kneeling in the puddle. He can feel the vibration of Lance’s laughter, taste his delight where it bubbles and pops like champaign on his tongue.

When he looks up at Lance his eyes are glowing; that same blue-white light as when he meditates and goes into the astral.

Keith stares up at him, kneeling in a muddy puddle, the same light in his eyes.

Laughter spills out of Keith, giddy with everything he’s feeling, the vibrant force of _life_ all around him. He’s shaking as Lance holds his hands, pulling him back to his feet, steam beginning to curl from Keith’s shoulders. He’s no longer cold.

“ _Water unites all things_ ,” Lance says, a deep vibration to his voice Keith has never heard, the thrum of power in it like an undertow, sweeping him along, echoing in his head.

Keith gasps at the weight and the feeling and the overwhelming emotion of it all, clinging to Lance to stay grounded under the swell before it takes his knees from under him again.

It takes him a moment to get his feet under him. “ _I think I love the rain,_ ” he gasps, still reeling from it all.

When Lance laughs Keith can feel and hear it echoed back to him through the planet under his feet, the trees, and in the very rain itself.

Yeah, Keith definitely loves the rain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Tuesday bitches!!!! Enjoy!

Once inside Lance pulls the water from Keith, a stream of it spiraling through the air until Lance directs it back out the door like somehow that’s _normal_. Keith gapes at him, staring down at his now dry clothes.

“Did you just waterbend me dry?”

That startles a laugh from Lance, the water he’d been pulling from himself splattering across the floor as he does, his concentration lost. His eyes sparkle as he looks up.

“Yeah I guess I did.”

Keith studies him. “Is that a stitcher thing?” He watches as Lance pulls the water from his hair and clothes, directing it out of Red, cleaning up what’s on the floor.

Lance frowns. “Pretty sure it’s a paladin thing.” Keith stares at him blankly and Lance’s mouth falls open. “Keith you’re the guardian of fire, you’re telling me you’ve never tried to direct it?”

Keith lifts his brows and shakes his head. “Didn’t know I could.”

“Oh my god, you have to try. It’s amazing.” Lance’s eyes are bright.

They sit down, Lance sitting slightly behind Keith at his hip, one knee tucked up behind his lower back. It’s probably a little more intimate than it needs to be but Keith doesn’t push him away.

Lance puts his hand under Keith’s, cradling it. He’s set a small lighter he always carries with him a few feet away, the weak flame casting shadows.

“Fire isn’t my element so I don’t know how much help I can be, but there are a few things I can tell you,” he explains, watching the little tongue of flame flicker at them. “Fire is alive, much like water. I mean all the elements have a life of their own but fire has a will of its own. You can’t force it to do anything. The tighter you try to hold on,” he curls their fingers into a fist, “the harder it will be to control.

“You must ask,” he says, voice going soft, letting their fingers unfurl. “Never demand. You have to give it just enough structure to let it breathe without letting it run wild.” Their hands find a happy medium, slightly curled without being too open.

“Much like with Red you have to earn fire’s respect. And never forget the damage it can do to both you and others,” he warns. “It’s a dangerous but versatile element. It can warm and protect, or it can scorch everything in its path.

“Relax your hand.” Keith’s hand has gone tense but eventually slackens into Lance’s palm, still carefully curled and molded to Lance’s own. “Now, call the fire.”

Keith glances between their hands and Lance.

“How?”

“Will it there. Think about what it would look like in your hand, what it would feel like, what shadows it would cast.” Keith's eyes slip closed and Lance takes the opportunity to study him and the way the fire licks over his skin, casting a sheen over Keith’s dark hair; the splay of his lashes across his skin and it’s really not fair that they’re so long; the slight flush to his cheeks, the delicate part of his lips. Keith has great lips, soft and pouting and Lance has to curl his other hand against the floor to keep from reaching out to stroke his thumb across them.

He swallows dryly. “Would the flame spin or flicker and dance?” he asks and his voice is rough. “Would it be a small tongue or a sphere?” Keith concentrates, thinking about what Lance is saying, pulling on his quintessence, directing it towards the lighter, poking and pulling, a furrow between his eyebrows.

“Open your eyes,” Lance whispers.

When he does there’s a small tongue of flame in his hand. He stares at it in open surprise and Lance lowers his hand, leaving Keith with the fire all on his own.

“Why isn’t it burning me?” Keith is staring at the flame intently, fascinated and awestruck, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

“Do you want it to?” Lance tilts his head to the side, watching the fire flicker and dance. It swells briefly as Keith feeds it a thread of energy before fading again.

“No,” he says softly, still entranced.

“Then there’s your answer.” Lance holds a sphere of water just outside Red in case things get out of control. He’s not so sure the fire won’t burn _him._

Keith finally tears his eyes from the fire. “How did you know how to do this?” Keith is beautiful by firelight.

Lance shrugs. “My brother. He said magick used to be a lot more powerful than it is now. That once upon a time we used to be capable of things like this.” He tilts his chin towards the fire in Keith’s hand. “We used to be capable of so much more than we are now. I’m wondering if maybe that magick wasn’t in some way linked with Altean alchemy or something similar.”

Keith blinks at him. “You think there were Alteans on Earth?”

“At some point, maybe.” It sounds a little preposterous, even to Lance, but he can’t think of anything else. “How else do you explain that?” He flicks a look at the fire in Keith’s hand. “Seems like Altean alchemy to me or an offshoot of something similar.”

Keith purses his lips but seems to consider the idea. “Huh.” He waves his fingers and the fire dances. “How do I get rid of it?”

Lance smiles, leaning back on his hands. “Stop feeding it.”

The fire slowly fizzles and Lance scoots away, giving Keith his personal space back. He misses the heat of him as soon as he does.

Keith opens and closes his fist, summoning the fire back from the lighter and it licks over his fingers.

“I think you’d be able to manifest the flame without a source given the nature of fire but it’d probably be exhausting to do so.”

Keith looks at him from the corner of his eye, still focused on the flame. “Meaning what?”

“Always carry a lighter. I can’t do shit without a source,” Lance says. “I can’t just _make_ water appear.

“I mean in theory I could pull it straight out of the air but that’s more energy than I’m willing to expend when I could just carry a small bottle on me or something. It’s easier to manipulate what’s pre-existing than it is to create.

“Pidge would probably have trouble too. Not much earth in space.” A grin pulls at the side of his mouth. “But who knows, maybe they can manipulate metal. We won’t really know until we try and see how their connection to nature manifests. If I had to hazard a guess though I’d say it’s more of a trees and plants way than solid stone.

“Hunk has it easy, his element is all around him even if it’s artificial. Shiro’s too.” He frowns and runs a hand thoughtfully down his face. “I suppose if you were around a hot enough source you could probably manifest fire at will though.” He falls silent for a moment wondering if Red produces enough heat in her core for Keith to pull from.

He shakes himself free of the thought. “Still, there’s no point in draining yourself if you can avoid it. You’ve only got so much energy to work with at any given time and it’s easy to get drained.”

Keith frowns. “How do you recharge when your energy levels are that low?” he asks. “What does that mean?” He struggles to condense the flame into a sphere.

Lance grabs a set of rations and a couple pouches of water before sitting down again.

“We always referred to it as a well in my family. Mine’s here.” He presses a hand over his chest, idly drawing the sphere of water into the room, stretching it playfully between his hands.

“Whether or not it’s quintessence or energy of another kind is beyond me, but it’s a well of power that you can drawn from to cast spells or in this case, do things like this.” He makes the water dance, stretching it between his hands in arcs and spirals, slow and graceful before sending it back outside again and opening a dehydrated goo bar.

“Anyway, everyone’s well can look different. My _abuela’s_ is a cistern but mine looks like a tide pool. My mom’s is a whirlpool, and Marco’s is an old oak barrel actually.” He snickers.

“They’re not all water based in other people but in my family they are. In my experience they can look like anything though. I met a guy once whose well was actually a plot of land. Like a freshly tilled garden.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s mine?”

Lance shrugs. “You tell me. Close your eyes and focus on it. Look for that center of energy inside yourself and tell me what you see.” Keith dismisses the flame he’s holding and closes his eyes. Lance subconsciously lowers his voice as Keith closes his eyes. “Tell me what it looks like.”

Lance can feel him turn his focus inwards, probing at his well. Keith frowns, his face screwing up as he pokes around.

“I think it’s a sphere? Is that right?”

“There’s no right or wrong way to have a well. They can take any form. Trust your instincts. What does it look like.”

The frown smooths from Keith’s face. “It’s a sphere,” he says softly, voice sure. “About this big.” He holds his hands out, forming a loose circle a little smaller than his own head.

“It’s spinning. Red and gold and white.” He gestures with a hand in a loose spiral. “There’s some kind of…” He frowns again, struggling for a description. “It’s not quite a band but a jagged spiral of energy around it, crackling.”

Lance nods, pleased at the description. It’s what he sees too.

“I don’t know but I would hazard a guess that when your energy levels get low the sphere will shrink, the light fading as you drain.” His voice shifts back into instructor mode. “Now, you can pull from any element to recharge and in some cases even from music, emotion, or other people.”

“Wait,” Keith interrupts, eyes wide, “seriously?”

Lance nods. “Yeah, there’s energy everywhere and I’d say we’re probably all empaths which makes feeding from outside sources possible. Being the guardian of water I can pull and recharge from water a lot faster than any other element. You’d probably experience the same thing with fire. Or heat of any kind maybe.” His face wrinkles thoughtfully. “You could probably pull from nearby stars and suns too given enough practice,” he says idly and that leaves Keith’s head spinning.

He stares at Lance, lips parted in surprise. “And this is all...what, guesswork? Witchcraft? How do you _know_ all of this?” He leans forward, surprise and wonder in his voice, staring intently at Lance.

Lance scratches at the back of his neck and blushes. He likes being the center of Keith’s attention.

“Well, there’s a hell of a lot of overlap. A lot of empaths become witches and I think every witch I’ve ever known has been an empath. Both use the manipulation of energy to manifest their will. Altean alchemy seems to function on the same principles; at least in theory.” Lance smiles but it feels brittle. Somehow it feels like he’s given too much away, he's just not sure how yet. So he scrambles to change the subject, cheeks still burning.

“Fun fact: spirit is often referred to as aether and in the Middle Ages was literally referred to as quintessence.” He watches the realization wash over Keith, his smile turning more sincere. “Do you know what quintessence actually means?” he asks softly. Keith shakes his head.

“I didn’t know it meant anything.”

“Fifth.” Lance grins slyly. “Quintessence, or spirit, is literally the fifth element and what all Altean alchemy is based on. As a word itself it means pure or the most perfect form of a thing. A refined essence or extract of something.”

His grin widens at the look on Keith’s face. “Like I said, alchemy and witchcraft have a lot in common.”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut. “Okay, I’m sold on Alteans having been to Earth,” Keith says. “That’s way too many overlaps to be a coincidence.”

“Such a conspiracy theorist,” Lance teases.

“Not a conspiracy if it’s true,” Keith says sagely. He tips his water pouch at Lance before turning contemplative again.

    “Do you…” he says slowly, almost like he’s afraid to give voice to the question. He chews his lip. “Do you think it’s possible someone in your family line was Altean?” If Lance didn’t know any better he’d say Keith almost sounded shy.

Lance frowns, not sure how he feels about that. “Why?”

Keith rolls his water pouch between his hands. “Well, you said stitching runs in your family right? If it is quintessence based then isn’t it likely it’s also an Altean ability? The only way that makes sense is if somewhere down the line one of your ancestors was Altean.”

“But it had to have been super far back because no one in my family has the marks.” Lance gestures to his cheeks. “Or the ears.”

“Only if the physical traits are recessive,” Keith counters. “It’s possible the aptitude for alchemy isn’t and is more likely to manifest from generation to generation as the physical traits, for all intents and purposes, disappear.”

Lance stares at Keith for a moment. “Huh. I didn’t pay attention in genetics,” Lance says slowly, “but I really don't think I like that you could be right.” His face twists as he continues to think on it and Lance curls into himself, nose wrinkling.

“I...don’t think I like that,” he says slowly, distaste slipping into his voice. He shivers, visibly disturbed in a way Keith wasn’t expecting. “Yeah, no, really don’t like that.”

“It’s just a theory,” Keith ventures as Lance draws further into himself.

“Yeah but it makes sense.” He shivers, voice going high. “God I don’t know why that makes me so uncomfortable.”

Keith scoots closer, trying to comfort.

“It makes me want to crawl out of my skin,” Lance mumbles, fingers digging into his arms. He stares at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. “God this feels stupid but it’s like nothing I’ve ever accomplished is mine now? Like I don’t fit right inside my own body.” He shudders and Keith touches Lance’s knee, panic making his voice rise. “I don’t know, I don’t _want_ to be Altean. I just want to be me.” His eyes are wide and his breathing is shallowing out.

“I don’t _want_ to be Altean.”

“Hey.” Keith scoots closer until he’s pressed hip to hip with Lance, bumping their knees together.

“I have tried so hard to get where I am. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is piloting. And stitching. And now it feels like I never earned either? It was all just stupid genetic shit and I just feel like...everything I’ve ever done was just undermined.” He’s hyperventilating. “I _earned_ my spot in the Garrison. I earned that!” Tears collect along his lashes and his face falls. “Didn’t I?”

He searches Keith’s eyes, looking for answers.

Keith frowns. “Of course you did. Lance this doesn’t change anything. You fought tooth and nail to achieve all you have, the possibility that you might be just a little bit Altean doesn’t change any of that.”

Lance doesn’t understand why there are tears in his eyes or the way his stomach is churning.

“God I think I’m gonna be sick.” He rests his head against his knees and tries to drag in a steadying breath.

“You’re still you. Even if it is true it doesn’t change anything. You’re still you.” He puts his arm around Lance who curls under it, pressing into Keith’s side, seeking comfort. “This doesn’t change or undermine anything you’ve ever done or accomplished; that was all you, not your genetics.

“It may explain your empathy and compassion but it doesn’t diminish who you are.”

“Then why am I so scared?” he whispers.

Keith squeezes him tighter and Lance lets his head rest on Keith’s shoulder, knees pulled to his chest. He still feels strange but Keith is right. He’s the same as he’s ever been. At least he hopes he is.

“Still, I’d rather be fully human.” Keith chafes at Lance’s arm with the hand around his shoulders, tipping his head so it’s resting against Lance’s.

“We could probably run some kind of a test to find out when we get back if you’d like.”

Lance chews on his lip. “I think I’d rather just sit on it for a little while. Pretend that maybe it’s not true before proving that is it.” He’s staring down at his hands again.

“It could still be just a theory,” Keith offers. “It could just as easily confirm that you’re not Altean. It could be wrong.”

Lance extends a hand, letting the light he’s always had suffuse his palm. His expression is grim.

“It’s not.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it Tuesday! Shoutout to stormie again for being a wonderful beta! I hope you guys enjoy.

 

“Wait, so if the Paladins are the guardians of the elements why are there five of us?” Keith asks after another charging session with the lions. A bead of sweat races down his temple and he swipes it away with a hand, nibbling on some of the dried out pork they still have and splitting the last of the fruit with Lance. They’ll have to go looking for more soon if they’re going to stay any longer; they’re running out of food.

Lance shrugs. “Well, if you’re pagan the fifth element is spirit.” A sly smile pulls at his mouth as he fusses with a piece of his armor. It’s still caked in dirt and scorch marks, Keith’s blood long dried out and blackened against the white plates. He knows it’s an aesthetic thing for the Alteans to make everything white but they should seriously considering switching out to black. At the very least it would be more stealthy and far less jarring to see covered in the blood of someone you care about.

Lance scrubs a little harder at the blood with a handful of sand, rinsing it clean with water and tossing it out the door for lack of anything better to do.

His expression turns smug. “But if you’re Leeloo Dallas it’s _love._ ”

Keith snorts, nearly spitting out his water and Lance’s face lights up with a gasp.

“Hey! You understood that reference!” He points at Keith, eyes wide and bright.

Keith rolls his eyes, setting the pouch aside and opting to chew on a piece of the fruit instead.

“I wasn’t completely raised by wolves.”

Lance clasps his hands together in front of his chest and sniffles.

“I’m so proud.” He wipes away an imaginary tear and Keith throws the fruit rind at him with a laugh.

“But seriously,” Lance sobers. “The fifth element is spirit, which we’ve previously established, but it also includes the self. It’s what brings the other four together.” He laces his fingers together as he talks. “Five become one. That’s how magick works.

“Voltron functions in much the same way. It’s love that binds us.

“The bonds we have with each other as well as our lions. It’s why the paladin’s relationships with one another are just as, if not more important, than the relationships with their lions.”

Keith nods slowly. “Oh. I know we talked about that but I guess I just never put two and two together.” He frowns, fiddling with the straw in his water pouch. “I didn’t know spirit could be an element.”

Lance shrugs and goes back to scrubbing at the armor. “I mean it is in witchcraft so I’m just spitballing here and assuming Voltron is the same based on what we’ve learned so far. That’s what the pentacle represents. The five elements in one.” He holds up a hand as he talks, drawing a star in the air and a circle around it, naming an element at he hits each point.

“Water, fire, earth, air, and spirit all contained within mortal will, within the self. Each incredibly powerful in their own right but nigh unstoppable together.” A grin splits his mouth. “Sounds a lot like Voltron huh? Especially if each paladin represents an element.” He dips his head. “Unless we’re doing Chinese acupuncture and wind isn’t actually an element. In which case Hunk is actually Earth and Pidge is nature. But then we don’t have a metal.” He shakes his head like an etch-a-sketch to clear it. “Either way the principle is the same.”

Keith chews on the straw of his water pouch, mulling over Lance’s words. He’s silent for a while before looking up, lowering the pouch into his lap, fiddling with it, dark eyebrows knitting together.

“When did you get so wise?” he asks and he actually sounds sincere. The question throws Lance for a loop and his hand slips off the chest plate in his lap. He recovers but only just, cheeks red.

Lance ducks his head and shrugs, not able to meet Keith’s gaze, suddenly shy.

“I don’t know.” He smiles but it’s self-deprecating, hiding behind his shoulder as he scrubs violently at the chest plate, flecks of blood peeling away under the sand.

“That’s not a word most people have ever associated with me.” He scratches at his cheek with his clean hand.

“Or ever.” He shrugs again and finally looks up, flicking wet sand from his fingers before turning to focus intently on his armor again.

“Most people never bother to listen to what I have to say; they just assume I’m an idiot and dismiss whatever comes out of my mouth out of hand.” The corner of his mouth pulls sideways and he draws little patterns with his finger.

“I guess I just stopped sharing somewhere along the way.” He gestures around the room, Red’s power core humming fitfully.

“It’s why I assumed you and the others already knew a bunch of this stuff.” Something in his expression goes apologetic and he finally meets Keith’s gaze.

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. I just thought it was obvious.”

Keith frowns, fiddling with his water pouch, watching the levels inside rise and fall as he applies pressure.

“Well more people should listen to you,” he says slowly. “Wisdom isn’t the same as intelligence. I’d argue it’s infinitely more important.” He looks up at Lance from under his eyebrows.

“And you’re not an idiot, not matter what anyone else says.” He shakes his head slowly. “And if anyone does they’re wrong.”

Lance flushes, tracing idle patterns onto the floor. Keith realizes after a bit that he’s drawing pentacles.

“You’re the only one who does,” Lance ventures after awhile. “Listen to me I mean.” He clears his throat, forcing a bit of levity into his voice and does what he does best: changes the subject. “But anyway, this kind of makes Shiro the paladin of love.”

To his surprise Keith’s mouth drops open in a gasp, eyes wide and the mood does a hard left turn.

“Magical girl,” Keith breathes, eyes filled with wonder and Lance loses it because that is not something he ever expected to hear come out of the mouth of Keith Kogane.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up inside of Lance spilling into the air unbridled and Keith quickly follows, the two of them descending into a fit of wild giggles.

They wind up leaning against one another, laughing hysterically until they’re both crying and neither of them can breathe.

Lance wipes at his eyes, a new wave of laughter periodically washing over him, making him giggle. His stomach hurts.

“I mean, I guess that’s one way to put it.” He giggles again and Keith snickers into Lance’s shoulder. “But I mean it makes sense. The guy is selfless to a fault. He cares about people a lot.”

Keith scoffs, shifting his weight where it still leans against Lance’s shoulder.

“I think Adam would beg to differ.”

Lance frowns, turning to look down at Keith who is still leaning against him. “Adam?”

“Yeah.” He finally sits up and Lance mourns the loss but tries to keep it from showing on his face. “Shiro’s fiancé?”

Lance’s head lifts three feet into the air, spins around, and then drops back onto his shoulders with a jarring thud.

“Wait, wait.” He starts talking with his hands, turning to face Keith. “Shiro’s _engaged_?”

“Well he was.” Keith scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think he is anymore though. Adam kind of called off the engagement after Shiro accepted the mission to Kerberos.” He winces. “Adam probably still thinks he’s dead…”

Lance is still gaping at him. “To a man,” Lance clarifies. “Shiro is engaged. Our Shiro?” He presses a hand to his chest and Keith’s eyebrows lift as he nods. “To a man.”

“Was,” Keith corrects and Lance shakes his head, his expression the twisted human version of a blue screen as he tries to compute that information. He squeezes up his face and shakes his head violently.

“What?”

Keith makes a face. “Lance, Shiro is _gay.”_

Lance jerks like a crashing word processor before his eyes fly open and he gasps dramatically.

“He’s what!?” he shrieks, voice going shrill. “Oh my god how did my bi-fi not pick up on that?” He flops back against the wall, mouth open in a gasp. “Oh my god I’m losing my touch.”

“Your what now?”

“Bi-fi, you know, like gaydar but for bi folks?” He waves a hand through the air. “Because it sounds like wi-fi?”

Now it’s Keith’s turn to blink rapidly. “Wait, you’re _bi_?”

“Well yeah.”

“But you only ever hit on girls.” Keith's heart is skipping in his chest, beating out a stupid staccato rhythm that sounds suspiciously like hope.

Lance shrugs. “Well I mean I swing eighty/twenty with a preference for women but I still like men Keith,” he argues, expression turning defensive and he crosses his arms over his chest.

Keith looks far more gobsmacked by this revelation than Lance thinks he has any right to. His eyes are wide and distant, mouth hanging open and if Lance weren’t a hair’s breadth away from being offended he’d have found the expression hilarious.

“Oh my god,” Keith breathes. “Shiro was right. We do travel in herds.”

Lance’s brain shorts out again.

“Wait, _you’re_ gay?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew that.”

“Oh my god.” Lance puts his head in his hands. “We’re a pride. We’re a fucking _pride._  I can’t.” He’s laughing so hard he’s crying. “Dude.” He swats at Keith’s knee, choking on laughter. “Hunk is pan, Pidge is aro/ace and I would bet money that Allura is a lesbian.”

Keith’s face screws up. “Why? Because she doesn’t flirt with you?”

Lance gives him a withering look. “Dude, she’s a walking femme. Really? Gay. Get the girl a lumberjack, she’ll be gone.”

“Huh.” Keith sits back against the wall, blinking rapidly. “This has turned out to be a really weird vacation.”

Lance snorts, something in his heart going warm and fond at that.

“No one else I’d rather spend it with,” he says, voice soft around a smile.

Keith flicks a look at him. “Yeah, me too.” Lance smiles and god damn it he’s beautiful.

Before he can do anything stupid Lance is turning away, looking over Red’s power core and quickly changing the subject. Again.

“We should be good to go tomorrow or the day after,” he says. “Red and Blue should both have enough power to breach atmo but I’d like to top them off as much as possible just in case. It won’t kill us to hang out for another day.” His head lolls back in Keith’s direction.

“Though to be fair if Red needs a recharge part way home at least now you know how to do that.” He grins.

“Can’t believe you didn’t know how to pilot,” Lance teases, something old and familiar sparkling in his eyes.   

“Hey! I always knew how to pilot,” Keith argues but Lance clucks his tongue and raises a finger.

“No, no, you knew how to _fly._  Big difference.”

Keith wants to scowl. At any other time he’d call Lance an idiot but now he knows Lance is right; there is a difference. So he swallows his pride and links his hands together to keep from touching.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the mood abruptly shifting. “For teaching me.”

Lance flushes, all the teasing bluster punching out of him, leaving him awkward and bumbling.

“Well- I mean- you’d have figured it out eventually.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

Keith shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I would have.” Lance can feel him staring and his face burns under the attention.

“Thank you,” Keith says again, voice still stupidly soft. “If not for you I’d never have gotten off this planet Lance.”

Lance’s shoulders tense and he’s reminded of the boar. It had never occurred to him that Keith would be dead twice over now if he’s openly admitting he wouldn’t have been able to get off the planet. He’s not sure he likes the sound of that.

“You would have found a way home without me,” he mutters. “You’re too stubborn to give up and die.” Lance’s heart still swoops in his chest as he says it and it hits him just how much losing Keith would fuck him up. He has to swallow back a sudden mouthful of fear.

A small smile pulls at Keith’s lips. “Still. Pretty sure that’s two I owe you.”

Lance curls into himself at that, wrapping his arms around his knees, self-conscious and strangely guilty.

“You don’t owe me anything.” That's not why he did it. Is that what Keith really thinks? That all of this was just to try and one-up him in some stupid contest of who owed who? Something about that makes Lance feels incredibly dirty.

Keith’s fingers briefly come to rest on Lance’s arm, the pressure just enough to get Lance to look at him.

“Yeah,” he whispers, eyes as soft as his voice, “I do.” He pulls his hand away and stands. “Now come on, let’s go get a fire started. I’m freezing.” He heads for the upper deck and Red’s ramp but it takes Lance a couple minutes to get his heart back under control before he can follow. A fire sounds nice. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh SHIT it is Tuesday. Fuck that snuck up on me. Sorry guys!

The next day they top off the lions before donning their armor again, Keith wearing the replacement undersuit that’s been stored in his lion. He praises Allura’s forsight even if this isn’t exactly how he’d planned on it.

Keith torches his ruined undersuit, leaving it behind on the planet in nothing but ash and Lance scrubs the last of the blood out of Keith’s armor. They take off and breach the atmosphere of the planet with no problems and head into deep space, sending out a signal to the Castle of Lions.

The entire thing goes off without a hitch and is over in a matter of hours but Lance can’t shake the feeling that it was too easy.

In the end it proves to be nothing but paranoia as they manage to contact the castle and regroup via wormhole shortly after.

The other Paladins have already made it back after they’d all been separated, Keith and Lance the last to arrive. Pidge makes a smart remark about the two of them not killing one another that makes them both bristle. A lot has changed in what they later come to find has been five days and the idea that they could have come out of it after all that’s happened hating each other rubs Keith the wrong way. He doesn’t hate Lance. Never really has. All the conflict between them had been initiated by Lance and now...now something’s changed. He’s not sure what it is but he’s pretty sure that at the very least they’re friends now. The implication they’re not is upsetting, especially after Lance had saved his life. Not that Lance has any intention of telling them that it seems.

Keith lets Lance lead the conversation, structuring the narrative of their brief stint on the planet and filtering it as he sees fit. Keith lifts his eyebrows as Lance seems bound and determined to underplay his entire role in their survival. He wonders if this is something Lance does on a regular basis in spite of his penchant to over exaggerate other things.

Keith is beginning to realize Lance is a man of secrets with no true sense of his own skill and ability. A fact Keith intends to correct at some point.

He flicks a look at Lance, speaking up when necessary to support the story Lance is weaving around a number of truths and half-truths, the story flowing seamlessly and easily, as if lying is second nature to him.

Keith doesn’t argue but he knows he can’t hide the deeply gnarled scar that now graces his abdomen forever. The truth has to come out eventually, whether Lance wants it to or not.

~

Two days after they make it back to the ship Keith stops by Lance’s room. There’s a strange distance Lance has put between them since they got back and Keith doesn’t know why or what happened. He’d thought they were getting along, that they were friends. Possibly venturing into what could be something more. But since they got back Lance has been avoiding him. He’s afraid that maybe things are going to go back to the way they were before and Keith desperately doesn’t want that, no matter what anyone else thinks. He’s come to enjoy Lance’s company after spending five days in close contact with him, had adjusted to the constant company and even come to value Lance’s wisdom and insight; and now the fresh and abruptly Lance-shaped void in his life is frustrating.

In a lot of ways Keith doesn’t know what to do with himself, finds he’s making notes of things, turning to mention something to Lance only to find the other boy isn’t there. He wants to know why.

He almost doesn’t expect Lance to answer the door when he gathers the courage to knock but a moment later it hisses open.

Incense rolls out into the hall, washing over Keith along with the smell of burning herbs. It makes him wrinkle his nose but the smell isn’t entirely unpleasant, just abrupt. Either that’s new or Lance usually does a better job of hiding it. Then again it’s been an age since Keith last stopped by Lance’s room.

Keith wishes it hadn’t taken them crash landing on a planet to become friends, is beginning to think he’d missed out on something amazing all this time.

He can’t help the way his eyes slip past Lance to take in the room behind him. The last time he’d seen it, it had been far more spartan.

Now there are candles on a low shelf across the way, all of them flickering and casting shadows. There’s a collection of stones, bones, and other things scattered in between them all. Spell bags, a rod of wood with a crystal on the end, a collection of shells, one with salt pooled inside of it, and several small icons lining a small desk he seems to have converted into an altar at some point.

The screen projecting an outside view of the castle like a window shows the stars racing past, the lip holding an array of jars filled with water or other substances basking in the starlight. All at once Keith realizes that back on the planet Lance had lied to him.

Guilt twists in Keith’s stomach as he realizes Lance was probably wise to do so considering the way Keith had reacted.

Lance looks defensive, one hand on the wall in an effort to block Keith’s view of the room but he doesn’t say anything and doesn’t let the door close on him, just watches, letting Keith take in what he can see from the hall.

He’s in a robe, a towel wrapped around his hair and his expression is shuttered when Keith’s eyes finally meet his.

“Your brother wasn’t the witch was he?” Keith says it softly, like it’s a secret, or maybe an apology. “It was you. That’s how you know or inferred everything you did about the lions.” And Keith had all but laughed at him for it. His cheeks flush hotly.

Lance doesn’t answer him. Not that Keith can blame him. It makes sense, after everything Lance had shown him, had said to him. But Keith hadn’t exactly been open to the idea when Lance had first introduced it.

“I can’t say I understand,” Keith says slowly, because he doesn’t, “but considering where we are and the things I’ve seen you do…” He hesitates. “I believe you.” He watches Lance as the words sink in. “I don’t- know that it matters but I thought you should know.” He shifts awkwardly, something in Lance’s expression flickering. He doesn’t say anything and an awkward silence begins to settle between them.

It’s like they don’t know how to pick up where they left off now that they’re back on the castle. Keith desperately wants to bridge that gap but he isn’t sure what created it in the first place let alone how to fix it. Guilt swallows his need to confront Lance for answers and he ducks his head.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet.

“Um, goodnight.” He takes a step away and Lance calls out to him, following after Keith a step, still half-caught in the doorway.

“Keith.” His thumb runs over the edge of the doorway and he chews on his lip. “Wait. I- made something for you. It was a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you’d want it.” Lance ducks back into his room, emerging a moment later with a small fabric pouch in his hands.

He smells like whatever incense he’s been burning, soft and smoky and warm. Keith decides he likes it.

“It’s um, to help you sleep.” Lance turns it nervously in his hands. “It’s the only smokey quartz I had on me and something that hopefully resembles lavender but uh, it should help.” His fingers find the quartz where it’s folded inside the fabric, moving it around.

“I know the others have been struggling with nightmares so I thought maybe you were too. And sometimes it just- sounded like you weren’t sleeping well. Back when we were crashed I know you had at least one.” Lance shrugs awkwardly, his cheeks red. “This should help.” He holds the spell bag out towards him.

“You could put a pinch of that tea in it too that helps you sleep. I charged it so it’s good to go.” It feels like a peace offering or an apology but Keith isn’t sure what for. “I mean you don’t have to-”

“You did that for me?” Keith blinks at him in surprise, finally looking up from the spellbag and Lance flushes.

“I know you were having nightmares when we were stranded,” he says softly. “I just-” He doesn’t know what else to say, just that he’s getting embarrassed, his hand with the bag beginning to sink. Keith reaches out slowly, his hand coming up under Lance’s, cradling it and staring at the little pouch. He reaches for the bag with his other hand. He hadn’t realized Lance had been awake for the sparse nightmares he’d been plagued with while on the planet. The thought he had and that he’d made something to try and help makes Keith feel warm.

His fingers gently pull the deep blue spell bag from Lance’s, studying it.

“What do I have to do with it?”

Lance shrugs, self-conscious, tucking his robe more closely around himself. “Just put it under your pillow. If it stops helping let me know. I’ll change out the ingredients and charge it again.”

Keith glances up at him. “That’s it?”

Lance nods, a smile curling his mouth. “That’s it. Quick and painless.”

Keith turns the little bag in his fingers, stroking the symbol Lance has stitched into the corner.

“No one's ever…” Keith catches the corner of his lip in his teeth, curling his fingers around the spell bag, cradling it in his hand. “Thank you.”

Lance nods. “Anytime.” Keith knows he means it.

Lance twists his fingers together nervously. “And Keith? I’m sorry. That you have them. I

know how much they suck.”

Keith tries to smile. “Guess we all do huh?”

Lance’s expression is grim. “Yeah.”

Keith sighs and steps closer, leaning against the wall. “Are we ever going to tell them what actually happened down there? About the-” He seals the rest of the words behind his lips, fingers running across his abdomen, catching along the ridges of the scar and raising his eyebrows.

“Because it’s not like I can hide the scar forever,” he says softly. “And what about the Altean thing? Did you want to talk to Allura about it or see if we could test for it?” He searches Lance’s gaze. “Because I need you to talk to me. Tell me what to do because right now I feel like I’m walking on glass.”

Lance shakes his head, pulling the towel free, rubbing it over his head with a huff, hair standing up in tufts and curling against his forehead.

“I know I just- stars Keith I don’t know _how_ ,” Lance whispers, voice almost a whine. “To do either.” He bites his lip and frowns. “Look, this, it’s a lot of secrets that I’ve kept for ten years or more. I don’t know how to tell them that ‘hey I’m a witch and possibly Altean?’” His eyes pinch.

“But we are going to teach them right?” Keith asks. “What you taught me?” He pulls the lighter he always carries out of his pocket and fiddles with it. Living in the desert for a year prepared him well.

Lance sags into the wall next to him, scuffing at the floor. It’s the closest he’s been in days.

“What if they don’t believe me?” he asks quietly.

Keith flicks the lighter pulling on and manipulating the flame briefly, a small smile pulling at his mouth.

“How could they not?” He snuffs the flame and hides the lighter in his fist. “I’m not saying we have to tell them now but our story is only going to hold up for so long under scrutiny. And I think they deserve to be taught how to pilot.” He smiles and it pulls a small wry expression from Lance.

“Yeah?”

Keith nods. “Yeah. I’ve got your back.” He gently toes at one of Lance’s lion slippers. “We can tell them when you’re ready.

“I know there’s a lot you’re going to have to open up about that you aren’t comfortable with. But you’re not going to have to do it alone.” He searches Lance’s eyes, some of the vulnerability and trust they’d formed on the planet coming back to fill the space between them.

“I’m here,” he promises.

Lance ducks his head bashfully, his cheeks turning red. “Thanks.” He glances up at Keith. “I’ll tell them, I just-” He sighs, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “I’ll figure it out. We’ll tell them, I promise.”

“ _We’ll_ figure it out,” Keith corrects gently. “Not alone remember?”

Lance smiles, ducking his head to hide it and Keith’s own grin widens. It’s the first real smile he’s seen on Lance since they made it back. He’s pleased to know he can spot the difference now.

“Think we could maybe practice some time?” Keith wiggles the lighter between them, something like hope in his eyes and Lance smiles.

“Sure. I’d like that. But we’ll have to meet up at the pool again.” Lance drops the towel over one shoulder.

“Afraid I’m going to burn down the castle?” Keith teases. He can’t stop smiling.

“You? Never.” Lance grins cheekily. “But I’d love to be able to drown you should you try.”

Keith snorts, shifting closer without realizing it. “Noted. I’ll try to keep that in mind.” He spins the lighter idly.

“The hell are you two doing?” Pidge demands from down the hall and both Keith and Lance startle. Lance doesn’t move from where he’s draped against the wall but Keith flushes and takes a step back.

“Flirting,” Lance calls back over his shoulder, his grin all teeth. Pidge wrinkles their nose behind a mug of what smells suspiciously like coffee and turns back the way they’d come.

“Gross.”

Lance waits until Pidge has turned the corner before looking back at Keith. His cheeks are bright red but he’s still clutching the lighter in his hand. He clears his throat but doesn’t meet Lance’s gaze.

“Are you free tonight?” Keith asks, avoiding what just happened entirely, afraid to address whether or not Lance was kidding, isn’t sure he wants to know. He hopes Lance wasn’t kidding.

Lance laughs, the last of the tension and strange distance between them falling away. His eyes sparkle.

“Someone’s a little eager,” he teases.

Keith can feel the blush begin working its way down his neck. “You were right. It feels good.” He spins the lighter between his fingers, flicking it nervously. “And it’s fun,” Keith admits.

“Oh.” Lance drags out the word between his lips. “So you do know what fun is?”

Keith smacks him, making a face but he’s still smiling. “Yes Lance, contrary to popular belief I do know how to have fun.”

“But only if it involves setting things on fire,” Lance teases back.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, goodnight Lance.” He steps away, walking down the hall.

“Hey!” Lance calls out and Keith stops, looking at him over his shoulder. His eyes are still smiling. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Keith grins. He turns around and walks away, gathering his courage. “It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, ANGST.  
> Was Lance actually flirting or was he just saying what he knew would immediately scare Pidge off?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh fuck me running! It’s Wednsedy my dudes. I’m sorry. This chapter is such a mess.
> 
> Gore warning! I’m sorry, I forgot to add that sooner. My bad. Everyone is okay. Promise.
> 
> Also! We're jumping forward in time a bit.

An explosion rocks the ship as they run, fire barreling down the hall towards the paladins from somewhere ahead of them. The Galra are bearing down on them from behind, trapping them. There’s nowhere to run and no time to think as the wall of fire surges towards them. Keith drops his bayard, throwing his hands out.

“Down!” Everyone pulls out their shields and hits the floor. They don’t understand what’s happening, haven’t quite caught on yet, but they trust Keith, have learned to follow orders from one another without a doubt and even without understanding, they do as he says. Keith can’t protect them from the debris or the Galra but he can protect them from the fire. He just hopes it’s enough.

The soldiers are gaining on them.

Widening his stance Keith grits his teeth, spreading his fingers and reaching for the rushing flames that are almost on them.

As if sensing what he’s doing Lance runs headlong towards him and the oncoming fire instead of away, the others already crouching. Their eyes are wide behind their shields, caught between the oncoming wall of fire and the Galran soldiers at their backs. Lance loops one hand around Keith’s waist as he hits the ground in a slide, flinging himself around Keith and bracing for impact in front of him, shield out, protecting him as best he can from oncoming shrapnel.

Using what little Lance has been able to teach him, Keith pulls at the flames, forcing them upwards over their heads in a wailing arch. It’s like trying to push back against the heaviest current he’s ever encountered.

Once, when he was very young, he remembers pretending to be a knight, a shield held aloft as the firemen from the station his father worked at turned one of the massive hoses on him. He’d been fairly far back but the force of the water had still knocked him off his feet. The feeling is oddly similar except this time he knows if his shield falls they’re all going to die.

Gripping the flames Keith forces them up and over, twisting and lowering one arm to direct the fire down the hall behind them, shouting with the effort as he wills a pocket of safety to form over the paladins. The Galra behind them scream.

Bits of exploding metal ricochet across Lance’s shield and the walls as smoke curls into the pocket with a roar, their helmets sealing automatically. It does little to disguise the shrieks of pain and terror from the Galra behind them as fire consumes them.

Keith feels sweat break out on his skin, his energy straining to contain the storm which just keeps coming. His head is throbbing and he can hear the fire roaring in his ears as it cascades over and past them, sparks bursting in his vision. Every part of his focus is stretched thin, straining not to break, but the fire is never ending and his control is beginning to slip.

He sees a flare of blue quintessence in his mind's eye from where Lance is holding him and he latches onto it, manipulating the energy and feeding on it like kindling to a flame and it revitalizes him enough to steady the failing grip he has on the flames.

With Lance’s help he’s able to redirect the last of the fire down the hall and past them with a shuddering gasp.

Keith’s hands drop to his sides and he sways, stumbling sideways. Lance surges to his feet, catching Keith and stabilizing him with the arm still around his waist. Keith blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision from the dark spots threatening to overwhelm him. His ears are ringing and it feels like he’s just run a mile. His knees are shaking and his hands fall to his sides as Lance helps him stay upright. Lance is watching him intently and smiles when Keith’s gaze manages to focus.

“You did good Red,” he says softly. “Real good.” Keith's head is throbbing and he winces. The lights are too bright.

Hunk stands slowly, looking down the scorched hallway behind them in awe before turning to gaze at Keith. The sudden silence is unsettling.

“What just happened?”

Shiro and Pidge stand slowly, looking down the hall and then to Keith much the same way.

“Keith?” Shiro steps towards him, Lance still helping him stand. Keith is leaning into Lance heavily, trying to make the world solidify around him. His legs feel like rubber. “What just happened?”

Pidge comes to stand next to them, staring past them to the hall ahead where the fire had originated, the ship eerily quiet in the aftermath.

“What did you do?” They squint suspiciously, eyes darting between the two of them, Lance all but cradling Keith against him.

“Seriously you guys, what the hell happened on that planet?” They stare back down the hall, voice rising as they take in the pile of smoldering bodies behind them. There’s nothing left but blackened ash.

“Did you just firebend that?”

Keith laughs remembering asking Lance essentially the same thing and smiles tiredly, one arm draped over Lance’s shoulders.

“Lance taught me.”

Three sets of eyes blink owlishly at Lance who flushes under the scrutiny, shifting his weight, his grip on Keith tightening reflexively.

“What?”

“How do you know how to firebend?” Pidge asks, blinking in surprise.

“Okay we are not calling it that,” Shiro cuts in.

“Spoilsport,” Keith mutters, still loopy and exhausted, his filter apparently shutting down. Lance snorts.

“I can’t,” Lance explains, laughter still in his voice. “Not with fire anyway.” He hefts Keith against him, shifting his weight. “But I can with water. Keith is the guardian of fire remember?” He pauses but they all stare at him like they don’t understand.

“We all have the ability to manipulate our designated element,” Lance explains. “We just haven’t tapped it yet. Keith is fire, I’m water, Pidge can manipulate Earth but it will more likely manifest in something more akin to nature than stone if I had to hazard a guess. We won’t know until we try.” He rolls a hand as he talks as if brushing off the topic for later. “And Hunk is air.”

Pidge frowns. “But there’s four elements.” They glance at Shiro. “What’s Shiro’s element?”

“Love.” Keith snickers the word into Lance’s neck and Lance fails to contain his own surprised snort of amusement at the joke. He and Keith lean into one another to smother their giggles. They don’t really succeed but then again they aren’t really trying.

Lance is the first to regain his composure, lifting his head from where it’s resting against Keith’s, a smile still flickering across his face.

“It’ll probably manifest as raw energy like quintessence or even lightning,” he explains. “He’s spirit.” He smiles at Shiro, the others turning to blink at him dumbly.

Shiro’s eyebrows lift into his hair. “How do you know that?”

Lance shrugs. “I really thought it was obvious,” he says and it sounds like an apology. “Turns out it wasn’t. I taught Keith a little when we were stuck on that planet but we haven’t had a whole lot of time to practice since then.” He turns to Keith. “Seriously, that was amazing. I can’t believe you managed to redirect that much of the blast.”

“Good teacher,” he mumbles and Lance feeds him another thread of energy until he can stand on his own, taking some of his own weight back.

“You mean we could learn to do what Keith just did?” Hunk asks, something like wonder in his voice.

“Or your own elemental equivalent of it, yes,” Lance says, arm dropping from Keith’s side and he stoops to retrieve his dropped bayard, passing it back to him.

Shiro shifts his weight, his brows drawing down. “Why didn’t Allura tell us?”

Lance shrugs. “I’m not sure she knows. She probably thinks something like that is based in Altean alchemy and being human, it wasn’t relevant.” He presses the bayard into Keith’s hands.

“I don’t know, maybe we were just the first to try. Haven’t there only been one set of paladins before us?” He doesn’t really expect an answer. “I’m not surprised there are things that still have yet to be explained or discovered about the relationship between the paladins and the lions.” They all glance around at one another. None of them seem to know what to do or think of that. It’s not like they have any way of refuting Lance’s explanation.

Shiro blinks rapidly. “Huh.” He looks back down the hall still trying to come to terms with what just happened.

“Soooo...I guess that means now we head to our lions?” Hunk asks, trying not to gag at the smell of burning flesh.

Pidge shrugs, collapsing their bayard. “Works for me, I’m starving.” They make their way further down the hall, the others shrugging and following after.

The sudden change in pace and tone are jarring, throwing all of them off balance but there’s not much else they can do.

“Alright,” Shiro says. “Everybody just...be careful okay? We don’t want to let our guard down.”

As Pidge rounds the corner they dance sideways, a number of laser blasts striking the ground and they all scatter. Pidge’s sudden appearance seems to have started the collection of Galra and sentries, whatever the blast was clearly intended to take out the paladins. It seems they all startled one another.

“We’re running again!” Pidge bolts down the adjacent hall, the others right on their heels as another wave of Galra are suddenly on them and once again it’s a race to the lions. Lance lays down a spray of coverfire behind them as they struggle to outrun the sentries.

“We’re almost out!” Shiro is shouting, herding the paladins down the hall. He looks over his shoulder as another squadron rounds the corner in front of them, cutting the paladin’s off. They’re going to be overwhelmed.

Everything slips into slow motion. The commander is wielding a portable canon, the blast reaching full charge with a whine and releasing with a scream, barreling down the hall towards them in a flare of light.

They all scatter to avoid the shot but Shiro isn’t fast enough.

Caught in a crossfire all they can do is hunker down beneath their shields as the blast takes Shiro in the middle of the thigh and he hits the ground. Keith screams, running for his brother, Lance falling back to cover them.

“We need cover!” He dares a few shots from behind his shield, taking out a sentry with each squeeze of the trigger.

“Lance!”

He glances back as Keith shouts for him, his voice cutting through the static in Lance’s ears and he goes cold. Shiro is lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“What happened?” he rasps, trying to sit up but Keith is restraining him.

Shiro’s thigh is blown open, a tangled mess of shattered bone and ground meat and fat. Lance’s stomach roils, laser fire ricocheting across his shield and over their heads.

Keith is ashen, his face desperate and pleading and Lance goes cold. Shiro is going to die.

“Lance…”

“Get him in the hall!” Lance orders, taking over. “Pidge cover us!” Pidge and Hunk converge on them as the Galra press closer, backing them into a dead end. Pidge hurls a grenade into the soldiers pinning down Lance, the EMP downing the last of the sentries as Lance releases a wild spray of suppressing fire.

Together he and Keith drag Shiro into the hall, Pidge and Hunk posting up at the mouth, keeping the remaining sentires at bay.

“Can we get him to the lions?” Keith asks but Lance shakes his head, already examining the wound. There’s so much blood.

His heart is in his throat as he presses his hands into the mess that is Shiro’s leg. “No time,” he says thickly, “he’s going to bleed to death first.” His hands are tangled with Keith’s, applying pressure and trying to stop the bleeding.

“You have to help him.”

Lance is ashen, shaking his head, trying to take in the vast amount of damage before him.

“I-I can’t.” It’s too much, too deep, too intricate. He can’t fix a wound like this, not on his own. And there’s no one else here to help him.

“Lance!”

Lance’s head snaps up at the desperation and terror in Keith’s voice. He never wants to hear him sound like that again.

He searches Keith’s eyes, furious, his heart hammering, tears in his eyes and terror in his heart and he caves. Because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen, not really but he’s running out of time.

His eyes drop to Shiro who’s fallen unconscious, a puddle of blood underneath them, stretching all the way down the hall. Maybe he can do just enough to stabilize Shiro, get him out of here before it kills either of them.

Lance sets his teeth and latches on to his anger, using it as a shield against the fear and sets his teeth.

“Fine! But you are dragging my ass out of here,” he orders, sitting back on his heels. He tears off his vambraces and rips the gloves from his hands with his teeth, smearing blood across his mouth.

He turns to shout for Pidge and Hunk as Keith sets up at the end of the hall they’ve dragged him into. “Pidge! Hunk! Cover!” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just trusts that they’ll protect him as he reaches deep into himself, deeper than he ever has. Lance pulls as much energy out of himself as he can and  _ shoves _ .

He knits together Shiro’s bloody thigh as fast as he can, working at a breakneck pace, punching as much energy into the wound as possible. Blood vessels form, veins and arteries reconnecting, muscle and tendon rebuilding like the weave of a morbid, wet tapestry. The shattered bits of bone come back together, assembling themselves into place, Lance filling the gaps and forcing them to close.

He doesn’t feel the pain until it’s halfway done.

Shiro’s thigh is ground meat. His femur is shattered, the femoral artery shredded, torn apart by the shrapnel of his own bone. Lance is buried in blood past his wrists, the muscle knitting back together as flashes of years worth of anatomy courses on the human body come flooding back to him.

The body remembers for the most part and given a slower pace will largely direct the healing on its own, but this is different, this is  _ insane _ . Lance is literally having to rebuild Shiro’s leg from memory alone. He just hopes he doesn’t cripple the man.

Lance doesn’t stop pushing energy into the wound even as his eyes black over, sweat dripping from his face and a headache bursts behind his eyes. His head is spinning and it sounds like he’s under water.

He can hear shouting and Shiro’s voice but it sounds far away.

The wound doesn’t fully close, he doesn’t have enough energy for that, but it’s no longer as deep and he isn’t going to bleed to death. Lance can’t fit his entire hand into it up past his wrist anymore, just the tips of his fingers to the first joint, the second in a few places, but Shiro is no longer in any danger of immediately dying.

Lance probes at the wound with numb, slick fingers, trying to feel for what he can’t see but he’s losing it fast. It's hard to feel anything through the growing numbness. 

Hands grab for his arms and Lance feels his head bounce off the floor before he’s being hauled upright again and there’s a shoulder digging into his stomach. He hadn’t realized he was falling. The world has tipped sideways and he realizes someone has dragged him over their shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

Lance’s energy is dripping from him without his control, just like Shiro’s blood sliding down his fingers to patter against the floor. His energy is untethered, reaching blindly, pulling on anything it can find: sore muscles, bruises, a scrape, exhaustion, fear, dragging all of it away and into Lance out of his control.

“Lance stop, I’m not hurt.” Keith’s voice in his ear is the only thing he can hear clearly. The hall sounds like it’s full of bees.

Lance shakes his head, quintessence bleeding from him. He’s too weak to pull it back.

“Can’t…” he mumbles. It feels like his mouth is full of molasses. “Won’t...listen.” His voice is thick and slurred and it’s all he manages before passing out.

~

Hunk carries a limping but conscious Shiro back to the castle and they throw him in a pod. He’s lost a lot of blood but seems to be relatively stable. Coran smears something bright pink that smells like seaweed into what remains of the wound into the gaping hole of his leg, helping to shuck Shiro out of his armor before helping him into a pod. Pidge helps Coran while Keith and Hunk fuss over Lance who isn’t responding.

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

Keith drops him on a table, stripping Lance out of his armor, tossing the pieces to the floor with a clatter, kicking it out of the way. Lance is barely breathing and he’s gone ashen.

“I don’t know.”

They strip away his suit, Keith carving through the material with his blade. Hunk grabs a pair of scissors and together they get him out of the material in moments. For a while Keith thinks Lance may have been shot but under the suit he’s relatively unscathed. Then Keith sees an ugly bruise on Lance’s thigh where Shiro’s wound is.

“Is that… supposed to be there?” Hunk asks and Keith’s heart pounds so hard it hurts.

“No.” Keith has seen Lance after multiple stitches and none of them ever left a physical wound like this. Something’s wrong.

Panic grips him, the bruise darkening and beginning to seep as they watch, deep purple and red, little rivulets of blood beginning to run down the skin as it splits open. The muscle in Lance’s thigh is turning to pulp and Hunk snatches up the closest fabric he can find, pressing into the wound to stop the bleeding. Keith knows it isn’t going to help.

Keith moves to the head of the table and puts his hands on either side of Lance’s face, his skin clammy, trying to feel for Lance’s quintessence. He thinks he finds it but it’s faint and weak, a thin blue thread he clumsily tries to grasp before it can slip away from him.

“Come on Lance, you got to help me,” he says softly. “I don’t know what I’m doin here.” He reaches for his own quintessence and tries to intertwine it with Lance’s, like Lance had done for him in the hall earlier, but it’s fumbling and awkward.

Lance’s quintessence responds sluggishly, but it reaches for Keith and he breathes a sigh of relief as the threads intertwine, pulsing with vibrant purple light. Lance pulls and Keith does his best to push as much of his energy at Lance as he can until Lance finally takes a deep breath.

He blinks dull eyes open and Keith pulls back, realizing he’s pressed his forehead to Lance’s.

“s’what too much looks like,” he slurs thickly and Keith is thrown back to the first conversation they’d had on the planet when Lance had saved his life. He still looks pale and there’s sweat slicking his skin but Keith thinks maybe Lance is stable. He presses more quintessence into him anyway even as he starts to get dizzy, fingers still on either side of Lance’s head, stroking his cheeks, and suddenly he feels sick.

“You knew.” His fingers are starting to shake as he stares down at Lance. “You knew, when I asked.” Keith’s words go thick, struggling to get past the vice that’s suddenly around his throat. “To help Shiro.” He swallows, trying to be rid of the unwelcome pressure but it just gets worse as Lance’s glassy eyes meet his own.

“You knew it was going to kill you.” He nearly chokes on the words. Keith feels like he’s been submerged in iced water and it’s hard to breathe.

Lance blinks slowly, fingers looping around one of Keith’s wrists. “Sneaky suspicion,” he mumbles. Keith can’t stop shaking.

“Then why?” Keith snaps, grip tightening in Lance’s hair. “Why would you do it?”

Lance looks up at him blearily though it takes him a moment to focus. “Because…” He drags in a slow breath, eyes fluttering. “...asked me to.” His fingers stroke over the inside of Keith’s wrist, making him shiver. “...your brother.”

Keith doesn’t realize he’s crying until his forehead is resting against Lance’s again and he can’t breathe.

“I hate you,” he gasps, shaking as Lance’s fingers find their way into his hair. “I hate you.” He can barely speak through the terror and if he weren’t already leaning into the table he’d have fallen.

“I know,” Lance mumbles, the words tripping over themselves. “‘s’okay.”

It’s not. It’s the furthest thing from okay but Keith can’t get the words out. So he just holds Lance and tries to come to terms with what could have happened, that it would have been his fault, and that Lance would have willingly died doing something simply because Keith had asked him to.

Pidge looks back and forth between them, the healing bruise on Lance’s leg, and Shiro resting in the pod.

“Seriously, what the hell happened on that planet!?”

~

After Shiro’s recovery, which takes far less time than Lance’s, much to everyone’s surprise-- Keith assures them the coma-like state Lance slips into is normal after a stitch-- Lance and Keith sit everyone down and explain what happened when they crashed, as well as everything that’s come to light over the course of their botched mission. It’s not the way Lance had planned on having this conversation with them, but there’s no time like the present. And the present is full of questions.

They explain Lance’s ability as a stitcher, the possibility he could be Altean, which makes Lance visibly uncomfortable, and his theories about piloting as well as their ability to manipulate their guardian elements. To his surprise Allura nods along, supporting what he says but that she’s never heard it described in such a way. Or that it was possible for the pilots to charge the lions themselves.

“I didn’t know humans were capable of wielding that much quintessence.”

Lance shrugs. “I’m not sure they are, but the bond between the lions and their paladins is specific. It’s possible the five of us have more quintessence than the average human which allows for the connection in the first place.”

Allura nods thoughtfully, pulling on her lower lip. “That does make a certain kind of sense,” she admits. “I would like to study it further if you don’t mind.”

Lance shrugs. “I mean, yeah, sure. It’s all just a theory right now. If we knew more about how the connection worked maybe we could do more with it.”

“What you have learned already is incredibly impressive Lance,” Allura says. “The idea that there might be more to the bond than what we’ve already known has never even occurred to me.”

Lance flushes under the praise.

Overall the conversation is much more inquisitive and far less accusatory than Lance was expecting and he doesn’t know what he was so afraid of.

He takes to training the other Paladins one on one in their chosen element, working with both Shiro and Allura to teach Shiro to wield what turns out to be lightning. It’s wild and dangerous, difficult to control and direct and their sessions tend to be down in the generator room, drawing from the energy arcs. It turns out the room made to contain giant lengths of purple lightning that run the castle is the only room built to contain wild rogue paladin lightning. Who knew.

Pidge is much easier to train and takes to it faster than Lance was expecting, speeding the output of their garden in hydroponics they and Hunk have been slowly building much to Pidge’s delight.

Hunk he finds does better with solid ground beneath his feet and open air so they practice every chance they can get when they’re planetside.

He and Keith still practice in the pool together, usually with a small cube provided by Allura that contains what she calls liquid fire. The device is harmless but contains enough heat in its core to allow Keith to pull from and form open flame. Most planets they’ve stopped off on weren’t overly fond of the idea of them practicing on an open bonfire so they haven’t had a chance to really expand on Keith’s ability much to their frustration. Lance has half a mind to park outside of a nearby star and have Keith pull from that just to see what would happen.

They take to dueling one another in a flagrant disregard for one another’s safety, but Keith trusts Lance to keep them both safe. Or to take care of whatever injuries might arise during the matches. For once Keith isn’t afraid of holding back and every time he manages to break through Lance’s defenses Lance beams with pride, new burns still smarting but absolutely radiant.

He sings Keith’s praises at every turn, leaving Keith flustered and embarrassed every time. He’s adaptable and quick, capable of thinking on his feet and Lance finds himself smiling through the spars more often than not.

It’s not the most traditional of training methods but it works for them.

They’re still dancing around one another, especially after what happened with Shiro, but it’s only a matter of time before the ice breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I swear I’ll clean this up eventually. One last chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Tuesday my dudes! Enjoy the emotional train wreck that is the finale chapter of this fic. I am not afraid to admit editing this chapter makes me cry like, every time. I hope you enjoy it.

A few days later Keith steps into the pool room and nearly swallows his tongue. The pool overhead is empty, all of the water swirling around the room in a massive vortex. The force of the wind nearly knocks Keith back, a dull roar filling the room as the water spins, a wild hurricane in the middle of the ship.

Through the water Keith can barely make out the wavering shadow of a figure in the center of the contained storm and knows it’s Lance. It has to be.

The column of water collapses down on itself a moment later, spinning madly and then Lance is throwing his arms out to the sides and the column shatters. Thousands of beads of water fill the room, stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall and Keith has to catch his breath. Lance is trembling, eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he holds the water suspended. Sweat has darkened the back of his shirt with exertion.

Both of his shaking hands turn to fists and every bead of water hardens into ice. Still spinning they catch the light like prisms, casting little rainbows all around the room. Keith can see his breath in the air and reaches out to touch a few of the ice beads, moving his hand through them. They knock against one another, dancing as he does.

A moment later Lance is bringing them all together as he draws his arms into his body and the beads melt, Lance channeling the water in a slow stream back into the pool.

By the time he’s nearing the end he’s barely standing and when the last bit of water has slipped seamlessly back into the pool overhead his arms drop and one of his legs gives out.

“Lance!” Keith darts over, catching him in his arms as Lance’s other leg gives out and he begins to fall. He’s making a habit of that. Catching Lance every time he falls.

He looks barely conscious and it takes Lance a moment to come around and his eyes to focus.

He looks up at Keith blearily. His shirt is soaked with sweat and sticking to him, his skin strangely warm and Keith feels a flash of fear, afraid Lance has overworked himself so soon after saving Shiro’s life. But he can’t stop the awe washing over him after seeing what Lance had done.

Sweat beads across Lance’s skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hair is curling at the temples from the damp and Keith pushes it back off his face, Lance still lying limp in his arms.

“How long have you been standing there?” He’s breathless, head lolling and Keith sits down, Lance across his lap, one hand holding the back of his head.

Keith pokes at Lance’s quintessence with his own, probing at the levels, displeased to find them so low; especially after what happened with Shiro. He feeds a thread of energy to him and Lance begins to perk up, smiling softly.

“Hey, you’re getting better at that.”

Keith relaxes as Lance pulls gently on the thread and a smile slips back onto Keith's face.

“Long enough.” Lance can hear the smile in his voice and blinks his eyes open. “Stars, that was amazing.” Keith looks back up at the ceiling and the pool in wonder, awe in his voice and Lance is left staring at the line of his throat.

Lance is still splayed out across Keith’s lap, his fingers idly flexing in Lance’s hair.

“Really?”

Keith looks back at him, a wide smile on his face, still trying to wrangle his head around what he’d seen, at the amount of water Lance had been controlling.

“Yeah.” Keith laughs but at the expression on Lance’s face the smile slips. “I thought you knew that. You sing your own praises often enough.” It’s supposed to be teasing but the words sting.

Lance scoffs, using Keith as leverage to finally sit up but Keith doesn’t let him get too far, still afraid he’ll fall.

“Yeah, that’s all just talk Keith.” He winces and realizes he was more drained than he thought he was. Maybe trying to control the entire pool was a little of an overreach.

“Always was,” Lance mutters. “I’m not actually as awesome as I pretend to be.” He tries to make his voice light but doesn’t quite succeed. He can’t shake the headache that’s building behind his eyes.

Keith’s eyes travel back to the pool. He’s still holding onto Lance. Lance doesn’t want him to let go.

“Yes you are.” Keith’s voice is soft with pride and wonder and damn it, that does things to Lance.

He stares up at Keith who’s still staring at the pool, his heart kicking painfully in his chest.

“How do you do that?” Lance’s voice is thick with emotion.

Keith drops his head and he’s still smiling. “Do what?”

“Always know what to say to make me feel like I’m not worthless.” And shit, Lance hadn’t meant to say it like that, hadn’t meant to be so honest. He flushes and averts his gaze as Keith’s hand on his arm tightens. Lance curls his arms around himself, shoulders hunching, trying to hide.

He can feel Keith staring at him but doesn’t get the chance to backpedal.

“Because it’s true. I’ve only ever told you the truth. You just can’t see it.” A sad expression pulls at his mouth and he tucks a rogue curl behind Lance’s ear, startling him. His fingers linger. Lance wants to swear. Keith has no right to look that damn _soft._

“You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met,” Keith says and his voice is low and intimate and painfully sincere. “You have so much power and passion and yes, sometimes you can get a little carried away.” Laughter edges it’s way into his voice, warm and bright and wonderful. “But it’s like watching a meteor shower, all brilliant and sublime and captivating.” Keith searches Lance’s eyes when he finally has the courage to look up.

“ _You’re_ captivating.” His thumb taps fondly against Lance’s cheek, fingers still in his hair. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye and we fight but I’m just trying to keep you safe. I don’t want to see the world break you, take away your spark and the light and hope in your eyes. It’s selfish but I like seeing it.

“I don’t want to lose out on getting to see it.” Keith’s thumb is still running soft circles over Lance’s cheek, swiping away a tear as it falls.

“You make me hope,” he confesses, and his voice begins to waver. “And I haven’t done that in a really long time.”

Tears well in Lance’s eyes, collecting along his lashes and he can’t stop staring. He can’t tell if the room is cold or it’s just him but he’s shaking.

“God damn it Keith,” he chokes, fingers tight in the sleeves of his shirt. “You fucking romantic. Shut up and kiss me already.” Before he can Lance is leaning into him, capturing his lips and Keith meets him willingly, still cradling his cheek with one hand.

The other lifts to join it and Lance’s hand clutches the front of Keith’s shirt, pulling him closer.

He holds Lance like he’s something precious and valuable and _wanted_ , kisses Lance like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be and the tenderness nearly breaks him.

Lance’s face crumples and he pulls away, ducking his head to cry.

“Hey.” Keith runs his fingers over Lance’s hair as he cries, one hand clutching Keith’s shirt. “What’s wrong?” Lance shakes his head.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He scrubs the heel of a hand over his cheek. “You just- nobody has ever made me feel the way you do.”

Keith runs a hand over Lance’s hair again, wrapping an arm around him. “Like what?”

Lance’s throat closes and he chokes. “Wanted.” He’s ashamed to say it and tries to hide so Keith can’t see, but Keith just gathers Lance in his arms, pulling him closer and the words spill out of him.

“I’ve never been good enough for anybody,” Lance whispers. “It’s always too much or not enough and I’m terrified this is all a dream and you’re gonna wake up and realize the same thing just like everybody else and I can’t-” He trips over a jagged breath, hiding his face against Keith’s chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. He still can’t stop shaking.

“I want you too much to be able to handle that.” The confession leaves him feeling flayed, pinned like a butterfly or a frog under a knife, ugly and raw; every part of him exposed, bruised and hurting.

Keith holds him tighter, running his fingers through Lance’s hair, nails scratching gently over his scalp. He presses a kiss just behind Lance’s ear.

“I want you too,” he whispers and Lance cries, shuddering apart in Keith’s arms.

He cries himself hoarse, years of barbed words and insults from his various partners leaving deep scars and insecurities, wounds Lance thought would never heal. Keith is like a soothing balm to those wounds, his words and quintessence seeking out the most damaged parts of Lance, chasing out the darkness, burning it out of him and healing him.

He rebuilds Lance from the scorched ground up, making him stronger, better, more confident than he’s ever been, leaving the ruin to flourish.

He’s always done that.

Lance has never really believed in soulmates, but he thinks maybe Keith is, and always has been his other half, his perfect match in all things; his equal.

He clings to that realization and prays he never loses that because it would inevitably kill him.

In that moment Lance realizes that one day, when all of this is over, he’s going to marry Keith. It’s a revelation he keeps close to his heart, cradled like a flower against his chest, delicate and warm and to be nourished for years to come. _One day,_ he thinks, fingers curling in Keith's shirt over his heart, _one day, I’m going to marry you Keith Kogane._

Lance takes a deep, shuddering breath and sits back, wiping at his face.

“Sorry,” he mutters, flushing in embarrassment as he pulls away, wiping at his cheeks. His skin is mottled and his eyes are red. “That was messy.” He tries to laugh.

Keith thumbs away a tear. “s’okay. I like it when you’re vulnerable.”

Lance flushes an even deeper shade of red and makes a choking noise. “You can’t keep saying shit like that,” he squeaks, small and embarrassed and exposed, heart in his hands. Keith tries to keep from smiling but doesn’t succeed.

“Why?” There’s amusement in his voice.

Lance scowls, still embarrassed. “Because if you don’t shut up I’m never going to be able to stop kissing you.”

Keith’s expression turns smug and he leans forward, his words ghosting over Lance’s lips with every breath.

“Not much of an incentive then.” His voice dips low and Lance makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

“God damn it,” Lance swears, one hand grabbing Keith by the back of the neck. “You smooth motherf-” The rest of the curse is lost to the heat of Keith’s mouth against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the line! Thanks for sticking around. I hope it was worth it. 💋 Come hassle me on tumblr. I’m freyamaat over there, I’d love to hear from you. Please cry at me in the comments. Anything this made you feel. Leave me a heart or a thumbs up. Literally anything. I guarantee you I want to hear from you. 💕  
> Edit: Just went back through this for a quick edit and damn it it still makes me smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Hit me up on Tumblr so I can love you. http://freyamaat.tumblr.com


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